music        news/events        bio        contact        recordings Four Housman Settings 2007 SATB chorus duration 12' SCORE Loveliest of Trees Oh Fair Enough are Sky and Plain Oh See How Thick the Goldcup Flowers With Rue my Heart is Laden TEXTS Loveliest of Trees Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide.  Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more.  And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow.  Oh Fair Enough are Sky and Plain Oh fair enough are sky and plain,   But I know fairer far: Those are as beautiful again   That in the water are;  The pools and rivers wash so clean   The trees and clouds and air, The like on earth was never seen,   And oh that I were there.  These are the thoughts I often think   As I stand gazing down In act upon the cressy brink   To strip and dive and drown;  But in the golden-sanded brooks   And azure meres I spy A silly lad that longs and looks   And wishes he were I.  Oh See How Thick the Goldcup Flowers Oh see how thick the goldcup flowers   Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours   That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads   And pick you posies gay? 'Twill do no harm to take my arm.   "You may, young man, you may."  Ah, spring was sent for lass and lad,   'Tis now the blood runs gold, And man and maid had best be glad   Before the world is old. What flowers to-day may flower to-morrow,   But never as good as new. 'Suppose I wound my arm right round'   "'Tis true, young man, 'tis true."  Some lads there are, 'tis shame to say,   That only court to thieve, And once they bear the bloom away   'Tis little enough they leave. Then keep your heart for men like me   And safe from trustless chaps. My love is true and all for you.   "Perhaps, young man, perhaps."  Oh, look in my eyes then, can you doubt?   —Why, 'tis a mile from town. How green the grass is all about!   We might as well sit down. —Ah, life, what is it but a flower?   Why must true lovers sigh? Be kind, have pity, my own, my pretty,—   "Good-bye, young man, good-bye."  With Rue My Heart is Laden  With rue my heart is laden   For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipt maiden   And many a lightfoot lad.  By brooks too broad for leaping   The lightfoot boys are laid; The rose-lipt girls are sleeping   In fields where roses fade. A.E. Housman (1859–1936)