Roger Quilter - April

More Roger Quilter lyrics

Roger Quilter - A Last Year's Rose
From the brake the Nightingale Sings exulting to the Rose; Though he sees her waxing pale In her passionate repose While she triumphs waxing frail Fading even while she

Roger Quilter - A Song at Parting
When I am dead, my dearest Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet;

Roger Quilter - I Arise From Dreams of Thee
I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night When the winds are breathing low And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee And a spirit in

Roger Quilter - Tulips
Bright tulips, we do know You had your coming hither And fading-time does show That ye must quickly wither Your sisterhoods may stay And smile here for your hour;

Roger Quilter - Arab Love Song
My faint spirit was sitting in the light Of thy looks, my love; It panted for thee like the hind at noon For the brooks, my love Thy barb, whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's

Roger Quilter - Drink to me only with thine eyes
Drink to me only with thine eyes And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup And I'll not ask for wine The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a

Roger Quilter - Non Nobis, Domine
Non Nobis, Domine! Not unto us, O Lord The praise and glory be Of any deed or word For in Thy judgement lies To crown or bring to nought All knowledge and device

Roger Quilter - Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
Blow, blow thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen Because thou art not seen Although thy breath be rude Heigh ho!

Roger Quilter - Come Away, Death
Come away, come away, death And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid My shroud of white, stuck all with yew O prepare

Roger Quilter - Come Unto These Yellow Sands
Come unto these yellow sands And then take hands: Curtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist: Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen