The marksman, Op. 27, No. 6 (Edward Elgar): Difference between revisions

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==Original text and translations==
==Original text and translations==
{{NoText}}
'''English Text'''
 
:Come from the mountain side,
:Come from the valleys wide,
:See, how we muster strong,
:Tramping along!
 
:Rifle on shoulder sling,
:Powder and bullets bring,
:Manly in mind and heart,
:Play we our part.
 
:Sure be each eye to-day,'
:Steady each hand must stay
:If in the trial we,
:Victors would be!
 
:Sharp is the crack! 't Is done!
:Lost in the chance, or won;
:Right in the gold is it?
:Huzza! The hit!
 
:The sun will sink and light the west
:And touch the peaks with crimson glow;
:Then shadows fill the vale with rest
:While stars look peace on all below.
 
:In triumph then we take our way,
:And with our prizes homeward wend;
:Through meadows sweet with new-mown hay,
:A song ecultant wil we send.
 
 
 
 
 


[[Category:Sheet music]][[Category:Secular music]][[Category:Partsongs]][[Category:SATB]][[Category:Romantic music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]][[Category:Secular music]][[Category:Partsongs]][[Category:SATB]][[Category:Romantic music]]

Revision as of 07:54, 2 January 2008

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Editor: Stuart McIntosh (added 2004-09-27).   Score information: A4, 25 pages, 368 kbytes   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: The Marksman, Op. 27, No. 6
Composer: Edward Elgar

Number of voices: 4vv  Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsongs
Language: English
Instruments: piano
Published:

Description: No. 6 from "From the Bavarian Highlands"

External websites:

Original text and translations

English Text

Come from the mountain side,
Come from the valleys wide,
See, how we muster strong,
Tramping along!
Rifle on shoulder sling,
Powder and bullets bring,
Manly in mind and heart,
Play we our part.
Sure be each eye to-day,'
Steady each hand must stay
If in the trial we,
Victors would be!
Sharp is the crack! 't Is done!
Lost in the chance, or won;
Right in the gold is it?
Huzza! The hit!
The sun will sink and light the west
And touch the peaks with crimson glow;
Then shadows fill the vale with rest
While stars look peace on all below.
In triumph then we take our way,
And with our prizes homeward wend;
Through meadows sweet with new-mown hay,
A song ecultant wil we send.