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Concert program for a song recital in The MacDowell Club's fourth season. Baritone Tom Dobson performed works by Greig, Posa, Rachmaninoff, Weingartner, Carpenter and more.
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The MacDowell Club Fourth Season presents Tom Dobson, Baritone (Management Loudon Charlton) ...in... Song Recital Multnomah Hotel, Portland, Oregon Tuesday, October 9, 1917 at three p. m. Mason & Hamlin piano used program Mit Einer Wasserlilie (Ibsen)................................................Greig Mit Einer Wasserlilie. Sieh, Marie, was ich brings, Blume, mit der weissen Schwinge Auf des stromes stillen Wogen Kam sie traumerisch gezogen. Wenn sie deinen Busen schmucte Kehrte heimwarts, die Begluckte; Denn auf stillen Wellenthrone Ruhte selig ihre Krone. Hute dieh am Strom zu traumen, Furchtbar konnen Fluthen sehaumen, Neck 1st still als wenn er schliefe, Lillien spielen ob der Tiefe; Gleich der See dein Busen klar ist, Wo ein jeder Traum nicht far ist, Lillien spielen ob der Tiefe, Neck ist still als wenn er schliefe. With a Waterlily. See, Marie, what I'm bringing, Blossom, with white wings upspringing, On the ripples of the rive'r Dreamy springtime made It quiver. Wilt thou to my chamber bear it? On thy breast, wear it? Then 'twill dream its head is hiding On the billowy streamlet gliding. Child, beware the pond's deep stream there; Perilous it is to dream there. Water sprite pretends to slumber, Lilies play in countless number. Child, thy breast is like the stream there, Perilous it is to dream there. Lilies play in countless number Water sprite pretends to slumber. Unter Rosen (Ibsen)................... Unter Rosen. Die Mutter, sie sass mit dem Kind auf dem Schoss Unter Rosen. Sie lachte und scherzte mit Sang und Gekoss Unter Rosen. Sie kusst ihm die Augen, Sie kusst Ihm die Wang, Gott gab ich dieh sehe mein Leben lang Unter Rosen. Die Vogel verzogen, kein Lied mehr er-schallt Unter Kosen. Im Sarg lieg' der Knabe, so blass und so kalt Unter Rosen. Und weinend, die Mutter den Kranz um ihm schlang; Nun werdich dieh sehen mein Leben lang Unter Rosen. Greig 'Neath the Roses. The mother, she sat with her child on her knee 'Neath the roses. She sang and embraced him with mother's fond glee 'Neath the roses. She kissed its eyes softly, its cheek she embraced, "God grant I may see thee forever thus placed 'Neath the roses." The birds are all silent, no song breaks the night 'Neath the roses. In its shroud lies the baby, so still and so white, 'Neath the roses. And weeping the mother a wreath there doth place; Now shall I forever see thy face 'Neath the roses. Du hast mich aber wffnge warten lassen (Lilliencron).........................Posa Du Hast Mich Aber Lange Warten Lassen. Es lauscht der Wald, Komm bald, komm bald, Eh' noch verschallt im Larm des neuen Tages Der Quelle murmeln, und verhalt. Geschwind, geschwind, mein susses Kind, Eh' noch im Wind die Schauer tiefer Stille Verzogen und verflogen sind. Durch W'ipfel bricht das Morgenlicht. O, langer nicht, mein holdes, kleines Madchen, Lass nun mich warten, langer nicht. Die Sonne siegt, Allendlich schmiegt Und lachend wiegt sie sich in meinen Armen Zum Himmel auf die Lerche fliegt. Come. The wood is dumb, O come, O come, Ere sounds the hum of newly wakened morning; The streamlet's murmur whispers "Come." Come fast, crane fast, O maiden, haste Sweet love to taste, ere garish day returning Disperseth swift the silence vast. O'er mountains height breaks morning light; Rejoice my sight, my little darling maiden; O tarry not so long from sight. The sun is bright; my arms invite And fold thee quite, my little laughing maiden; While beav'nward wings the lark his flight. Wenn Nacht mich hullt, und Schweigen (Foth) Rachmaninoff Wenn Nacht Mich Hullt und Schweigen. O, lang noch wird dem Ohr, wenn Nacht mich hullt und Schweigen, Dein tukkiseh Stammeln laut, dem Aug dein Blick sich zeigen, Den Fingern fuhlbar sein des Haars, des Haars gesehmeidig dichte Strahn, Dein Lacheln meinem Geist bald schwin- den, bald erstehn. Und flustern werde ich Gesprache, langst verklungen, Die einst Befangenheit uns beiden hat ent- rungen; Und wie im Bausche. ja, gleichsam sinn-betort Ruf deinen Namen ich, damit die Nacht inn hort. Ja, gleichsam sinnbetort / Ruf ich durch Nacht und Schweigen Den holden Namen laut, Damit die Nacht ihn hort. When Night Enfolds Me, and Silence. Oh long yet shall my ear, when night enfolds me, and silence, Your stammering mischief hear; my eye recall your glance. My fingers know again the touch of your thick, pliant strands of hair; Your laughter die away, then reach again my ear. And I shall whisper low the words, long since expressed, Which once, as though compelled, the two of us confessed. And as distraught, yes, as by madness stirred, I'll call aloud your name, until the night has heard. Yes, as by madness stirred, I'll call through night and silence Your holy name aloud, until the night has heard. Liebesfeier (Lilliencron)...............................................Weingartner Liebesfeier. An ihren bunten Liedern klettert Die Lerche selig in die Luft; Bin Jubelchor von Sangern schmettert Im Walde voller Blut und Duft. Da sind, so weit die Blicke gleiten, Altare festlich aufgebaut, Und all die tausend Herzen lauten Zur Liebesfeier dringend laut. Der Lenz hat Rosen angezundet An Leuchten von Smaragd im Dom; Und jede Seele schwillt und mundet Hinuber in den Opferstrom. Love's Festival. Upon her wings of music soaring Aloft the lark in air ascends; A joyous choir its song outpouring, In perfume-laden forests blends. Full many festal shrines revealing, Lo, far as human eye can roam. From thousand hearts the chimes ar pealing, For love's high festival has come. Spring 'neath the dome the roses lighted In lustres bright with emerald gleam ; Hearts jubilant have all united Their offerings in one mighty stream. II. II pleure dans mon coeur (Verlaine).....................................Carpenter II Pleure Dans Mon Coeur. II pleure dans mon coeur, Comrne il pleut sur la ville. Quelle est cette langueur Qui penetre mon coeur. Oh, bruit doux de la pluie Par terre et sur les toits Pour un coeur qui s'ennuie Oh, le chant de la pluie. II pleure sans raison Dans ce ceoeur s'ecoeure Quoi! nulle trahison Ce deuil est sans raison. C'est bien la pire peine De ne savoir pourquoi, Sans amour est sans haine Mon coeur a tant de peine. The Tears Fall in My Heart. The tears fall in my heart Like the rain on the gables; Would I knew what thou art, That hast flooded my heart? Oh, sweet sound of the rain On the roofs and on the ground For a heart filled with pain, Ah, the song of the rain. Oh, why am I weeping? Why this heart so disheartened? Is jealousy there, in my despair? Such sorrows have no cause. Blindly I grope in the darkness. Mingling my tears with the rain, Without love, without rancour, My heart so full of pain. La Belle au Bois Dormant (Alexandre) Fourdrain La Belle Au Bois Dormant. Comme elle avalt dormi cent ans Dans son lit fleurant la bruyere, La belle, un matin de printemps, Rouvrit les yeux a la lumiere. Elle apercut a son chevet Ses courtisans, ses creatures, Et d'un petit geste inquiet Se blottit sous les couvertures. Murmura le Prince Charmant: Belle, mon amour est extreme. Elle lui dit: la, franehement. Prince, il est use votre theme. Veuillez done pour cent ans encor Eetourner dans votre province; Je revais d'oiseaux, de fleurs d'or Et vous me deranges cher prince. Ainsi la belle s'expliqua Devant une cour stupefaite Et tous lui reprochaient deja Ce grave oubli de l'etiquette, Mais elle sur son oreiller Eetourna sa tete jolie Le Prince ent beau la supplier, "Vite, elle s'etait rendormie. The Sleeping Beauty of the Wood. Beneath her heather counterpane When a hundred years had passed away, The Sleeping Beauty once again Opened her eyes to the light of day. She saw her lovers and a train Of courtiers standing by her bed— And siezed the flowery counterpane And quickly pulled it o'er her head. Kneeling low, Prince Charming sighed, "Beauteous one, my love is great." "Prince," the Beauty then replied, "I fear your theme is out of date. Please wait a century or more, And don't disturb my golden hours. Just mind your kingdom, I implore, And let me dream of birds and flowers." The court, with anguish, grief and pain, Reproached the mischievous coquette, And asked her if she could explain Her flagrant breach of etiquette. The Prince had pleaded, but in vain ; The Beauty thought she might as well Upon her pillow turn again.— So, quickly, back to sleep she fell. L'Intruse (Materlinck) . L'Intruse. Elle est venue vers le palais Le soleil se levait a peine Elle est venue vers le palais Les chevaliers se regardaient, Toutes les femmes se taisaient. Elle s'arreta devant la porte Le soleil se levait a peine Elle s'arreta devant la porte; On entendait marcher la reine, Et son epoux l'intorrogeait: "Ou allez vous? Ou allez vous? Prenez garde, on y voit a peine Ou allez vous? Ou allez vous? Quelqu 'un vous attend—il labas?" Mais elle ne repondait pas. Elle descendit vers l'inconnue (Prenez garde on y voit a peine) Elle descendit vers l'inconnue. L'inconnue embrassa la reine. Elles ne se dirent pas un mot Et s'sloignerent aussitot. Son epoux pleurait sur le seuil (Prenez garde on y voit a peine) Son epoux pleurait sur le seuil On entendait marcher la reine. On entendait tomber les feuilles. . Fevrier The Intruder. Toward the castle gate she came The sun had just begun to rise. The knights looked in their comrades' eyes; The women all were silent. Before the castle gate she stood— The sun had just begun to rise. The footfall of the queen was heard And anxiously her spouse inquired: "Where goest thou ? Where goest thou ? Take care, the morning light is dim. Where goest thou? Where goest thou? Does someone wait for thee below?" She faltered not to make reply, To meet the stranger down she went. "Take care, take care, the light is dim." She went to meet the stranger there. A kiss the stranger gave to her: Without a word, they drew away. Upon the threshold wept her spouse. "Take care, the light is dim," he said. Before the gate her husband wept. The footfall of the queen they heard: They heard the falling of the leaves. Le the (De Banville) ............ Le The. Miss Ellen, versez moi le the, Dans la belle tasse chinoise, Ou des poissons d'or cherchent noise Au monstre rose epouvantee J'aime la folle cruaute Des chimeres qu'on apprivoise; Miss Ellen, versez moimle the, Dans la belle tasse chinoise La, sous un ciel rough irrite, Une dame fiere et sournoise Verse en ses longs yeux de turquoise L'extase et la naivete. Miss Ellen, versez moi le the. Koechlin Tea. Miss Ellen, pour me out some tea In this pretty china cup, Where, to the trembling rose tree The gold fish swims up. I love the foolish fury Of the dragons one spies. Miss Ellen, pour me out some tea In this pretty china cup. There, 'neath red and stormy skies A lady, proud and aristocratic. Pours, from her long turquoise eyes Her glances, naive and estatic. Miss Ellen, pour me out some tea. Le Grillon (Renard) Ravel Le Grillon. C'est I'heure ou, las d'errer, L'insecte negre revient de promenade Et repare avec soin le desordre de son do-maine. D'abord, il ratisse ses etroites allees de sable. II fait du bran de seie qu'Il ecarte au seuil de sa retraite. II lime la racine de eette grande herbe propre a le harceler. II se repose. Puis il remonte sa minuscule montre. A-t-il fini? est-elle eassee? II se repose encore un peu. II rentre chez lui et ferme sa porte. Longtemps il tourne sa clef dans la serrure delicate. Et il ecoute: Point d'alarme dehors. Mais il ne se trouve pas en surete. Et comme par une chainette dont la poulie grince II descend jusqu'au fond de la terre. On n'entend plus rien. Dans la campagne muette, les peupliers se dressent comme des doigts En l'air et designent la Inne. Sur la Tour de Montlhery (Klingsor) Sur la tour de Montlhery. Sur la tour de Montlhery Un joli jouvencel est monte Un joli jouvencel de Paris Au gilet fleuri d'une rose the. II a regarde le ciel fin comme une sole II a regarde la rouille des bois dores II a regarde le rouge vif des toits II a regarde le tapis vert des pres Et soupire. II a ote de son gilet la rose the Et l'a baisse, Tres doucement avec amour, Puis l'a lancee dans la prairie Et s'est lui meme jete Du haut de la tour de Montlhery. The Cricket. Of wandering tired at last The little insect returns to his small home And there sets him to work its disorder quick to repair. So first with his broom he sweeps and brushes the narrow walk. Fresh sawdust then he throws on the threshold of his tiny home. He rubs up the roots amongst which he dwells till they creak a faint complaint. He rests awhile. Then sets to winding up his tiny timepiece. Is it all right? Not broken, I hope? Once more he settles down to rest. He enters his home and shuts the hall door. And turns and turns in the tiny lock his little key. He pricks his ears: nothing stirring out there. And yet he scarcely feels safe. So as with a rusty chain that grumbles as it moves Into the earth he lets himself down. Nothing more is heard. Silence broods over the country. Ghostly tall poplars point like fingers stretched out heavenwards To the pallid moon. Hue Upon the Tower of Montlhery. Upon the tower of Montlhery A comely youth has climbed. 'Tis from Paris he comes. On his jacket blooms A crimson rose. He looked at the blue of the silken sky; He looked at the gold of the autumn woods; He looked at the brilliant red of the roofs; He looked at the greett- of the carpeted fields; And sighed. From his jacket he plucked the crimson rose. And kissed it softly, with fondest love; Then tossed it to the field below: And thereupon himself he threw From high on the tower of Montlhery. Le Passant (Klingsor) Le Passant. Ma belle cousine, je pars en voyage Et je passe pres de votre maison; Je m'en vais a Rouen et puis au Havre, Si le temps est bon. Le soleil se leve sur la grande route Et le matin descend dans le vallon; Mais vous dormez encor sans doute, Votre blanc bonnet sur vos cheveux blonds. Dormez: La bise pique comme en hiver Et je ne veux pas vous eveiller si tot Pour trinquer au son elair des verres En buvant trois doigts de bon vieux Bordeaux. Je m'en vais voir la ville au vingt eglises Dont les mille clochetons greles Effilent leur dentelle de pierre grise Mais vous dormez: Le soir, au retour, j'entrerai, Si je vois de la lumiere aux fenetres. Causer un peu, cousine, Et vous me sourirez, peutetre. Hue The Traveler. Good bye, pretty cousin, I'm going away, And I pass by the house where you dwell. I'm going to Rouen, then to Havre today, If everything goes well. The sun shines out on the broad highway, And down in the valley is creeping. While you with your head in your cap so gay, No doubt in your bed are sleeping. The air is as sharp as winter still, So don't awaken before I go To clink the glass which I now fill With a warming glass of good Bordeaux. The Cathedral Town today I'll see, And a thousand steeples made of lace; With tinkling chimes and tracery That ravels out into airy space. When evening comes creeping, If you have finished sleeping, And you should leave a light, by any chance; To talk awhile, and see you smile, I'll come back to visit you, perchance. III. The Green River (Douglas)..............................................Carpenter On the Day when Death shall knock at my Door) V (Tagore).............Carpenter On the Seashore of Endless Worlds..............) The Word (Masefleld).....) The Tired Man (Wickham) \..............................................Dobson Trade Winds (Masefleld)... ) IV. The Four Marys. ^ The Earl o Moray \ Green Broom.. 1 The Three Sons ) Bendemeers Stream Kitty My Love..... ____Old Scotch . arr. by Sharp .. arr. by Gatty arr. by Hughes Twickenham Ferry Marzails
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- 6 pages
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Public domain (this work is believed to be free of known restrictions under copyright law).
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- XXtxt_000085
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October 9, 1917
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