| Authors and Corporations: | , , , , , |
|---|---|
| published: | Köln EMI Records [u.a.] P 2001 |
| Part of: |
veritas x2
|
| Media Type: | Audio |
| Physical Description: | 2 Compact Discs (75, 78 Min.); DDD; 12 cm; Beih |
|---|---|
| Note: | CD 1:O solitude Ah! how sweet it is to love Not all my torments Stripp'd of their green Tell me, some pitying angel If music be the food of love Hark! hark! the echoing air The fatal hour comes on apace Incassum, Lesbia Sweeter than roses Cupid, the slyest rogue alive From silent shades Dear pretty youth From rosy bow'rs Now that the sun bath veil'd his light Beneath a poplar's shadow I attempt from love's sickness to fly Let us dance Fairest isle O solitude CD 2:Nymphs and shepherds Amidst the shades and cool refreshing streams Love in their little veins inspires Fly swift, ye hours They tell us that your mighty powers The plaint:O let me weep In the black, dismal dungeon of despair See, even Night herself is here Why should men quarrel? Seek not to know Retir'd from mortals' sight To arms, heroic Prince O lead me to some peaceful gloom Halcyon days Bid the virtues Lord, what is man? - a Divine Hymn Music for a while If music be the food of love Sawney is a bonny lad - a Scotch Song When I have often heard young maids complaining Ah! cruel, bloody fate Thy hand, Belinda... When I am laid in earth |
| Original Title: | Werke |
| Language: | English |
| Part of: |
veritas x2
|
| Subjects: | |
| Collection: | Verbunddaten SWB |
| CD 1:O solitude Ah! how sweet it is to love Not all my torments Stripp'd of their green Tell me, some pitying angel If music be the food of love Hark! hark! the echoing air The fatal hour comes on apace Incassum, Lesbia Sweeter than roses Cupid, the slyest rogue alive From silent shades Dear pretty youth From rosy bow'rs Now that the sun bath veil'd his light Beneath a poplar's shadow I attempt from love's sickness to fly Let us dance Fairest isle O solitude CD 2:Nymphs and shepherds Amidst the shades and cool refreshing streams Love in their little veins inspires Fly swift, ye hours They tell us that your mighty powers The plaint:O let me weep In the black, dismal dungeon of despair See, even Night herself is here Why should men quarrel? Seek not to know Retir'd from mortals' sight To arms, heroic Prince O lead me to some peaceful gloom Halcyon days Bid the virtues Lord, what is man? - a Divine Hymn Music for a while If music be the food of love Sawney is a bonny lad - a Scotch Song When I have often heard young maids complaining Ah! cruel, bloody fate Thy hand, Belinda... When I am laid in earth |