Set by John Mitchell (1941-) op. 71 (1989), from Seven Journeys to Earth, part 3, no. 2.
Text by 에밀리
브론테(Emily Brontë) (1818-1848)
Alone I sat the summer day
Had died in smiling light away
I saw it die I watched it fade
From misty hill and breezeless glade
And thoughts in my soul were rushing
And my heart bowed beneath their power
And tears within my eyes were gushing
Because I could not speak the feeling
The solemn joy around me stealing
In that divine untroubled hour
I asked my self O why has heaven
Denied the precious gift to me
The glorious gift to many given
To speak their thoughts in poetry
Dreams have encircled me I said
From careless childhood's sunny time
Visions by ardent fancy fed
Since life was in its morning prime
But now when I had hoped to sing
My fingers strike a tuneless string
And still the burden of the strain
Is strive no more 'tis all in vain