Set by John Mitchell (1941-) op. 71 (1989), from Seven Journeys to Earth, part 2, no. 4.
Text by Emily Brontë (1818-1848)
Oh Dream, where art though now ?
Long years have passed away
Since last from off thy angel brow
I saw the light decay.
Alas! Alas, for me!
Thou wert so bright and fair
I could not think thy memory
Would yield me nought but care!
The sun-beam and the storm,
The summer-eve divine
The silent night of solemn calm,
The full moon's cloudless shine
Were once entwined with thee;
But now, with weary pain,
Lost vision! tis enough for me
Thou canst not shine again.
The Beauty of Touch
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