BRITISH MUSIC SOCIETY OF NORTHERN IRELAND 1953 1954 FIRST RECITAL under the auspices of THE QUEEN'S UNIVERSITY OF BELFAST ELIZABETH SCHWARSZKOPF, Soprano GERALD MOORE, Pianoforte The Sir William Whitla Hall Queen's University, Belfast SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3rd 1953

Bist du bei mir Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) With thee by me I go with joy to death and to my rest. Oh how blessed my last hour would be if by thy loving hands my eyes were closed. Einem Bach der fliesst Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1798) There is a little brook that flows as softly as the Zephyr, winding through the meadows and giving coolness. . Nature promised that it should never cease lulling the shepherds to sleep. Whisper on with your glu, gli, gla. Cupid sighs no more softly than you. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Fly maidens from Damotas. I heard him and trembled at the magic he had. I grew pale and red, I shook like an aspen and had not the power of Yes and No. He led me to a grove, I followed and I sat by him, unable to look from him. He pressed me to him, I felt the poison darting through me, I sobbed. Then my mother came or surely I had been undone by his magic powers. Der Zauberer Wonne der Wehmut Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) Dry not, tears of love eternal. Ah, to the eye that is but half dried, how void, how dead the world appears. Dry not, tears of love unrequited. || Franz Schubert (1797-1828) An Sylvia (Written 1826, published posthumously as Op. 106). A setting of a German translation of Shakespeare's "Who is Sylvia?" Die Liebe hat gelogen. Op. 23, No. 1 (Words by Platen. Written 1823). Love has deceived me, the burden of sorrow is heavy upon me; everyone has deceived me. Hot tears flow down my cheek eternally. O heart, poor heart, stop beating.

Der Einsame (Words by Lappe. Written 1825). A book and a pipe and a cricket on the hearth-I ask for no better company. Perhaps the book drops and I sit staring into the fire and turning over my fancies. What has a man to do bustling up and down the world? He can never be more himself. Here by my fireside I revolve within my head the whole world, or as much as I want of it, and my friend the cricket seems to be doing the same thing. Die Vögel (Words by Schlegel. Written 1820). A folk-songy trifle of fluttering and twittering as the birds make mock of men. Ungeduld (Words by Müller. From "Die Schöne Mullerin", 1823). I would carve it on every tree and on every stone. I would sow it on every green, write it on every page "Thine is my heart and shall be thine forever." I would train a starling to say, as if my lips had said it, and ever to repeat it at thy window "Thine is my heart and shall be thine forever." The morning breeze would carry the message, the hedgerows and the flowers, the stream would move the mill-wheels to tell it "Thine is my heart, and shall be thine forever." My eyes must speak it, my cheek must show it, every breath must utter it, and yet she sees it not "Thine is my heart and shall be thine forever." ||| Schumann and Brahms Der Nussbaum, Op. 25, No. 3. Robert Schumann (1810-1856) (Words by Mosen). The tree flutters, the leaves waft gently bowing and bending. They whisper of a maiden who night and day dreams of she knows not what. Perhaps it of the bridegroom she will meet next year. She listens and ponders and sinks to sleep. Aufträge warm (Words by Ch. l'Egru). In each verse the poet asks: a little wave, a pigeon and lastly the moon, to bring a message of greeting to his love.

TWO GERMAN FOLK SONGS Da unten in Thale arranged by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) IV Below yonder valley the waters run clear And I never can tell thee that I love thee dear. Speak'st always of truth, speaks't always of love. But a wee bit of falsehood lies always above. And if I must ten times say fond is my heart, Refuse thou to listen, I then must depart. For the time I am thankful when thou hast been kind, And I wish thee that elsewhere more love thou mays't find. Och Moder ich well en Ding han (Cologne dialect) "O mother I want something." "What is the thing, a dolly?" "No, mother, you cannot guess it." "I'd better ask my brother what my lass would have." So on question and answer: "Will you have a finger-ring?" "Will you have a silken gown?" But it is unnecessary to ask her brother, for the mother has found that it is a lover she wants. INTERVAL Hugo Wolf (1860-1903) FROM THE GOETHE LIEDER Die Spröde (The Coy One), and Die Bekehrte (The Neophyte) Two complementary songs. The Coy One tells of how she went singing in the fields (Tralala), how one shepherd offered her sheep for a kiss (Tralala), another ribbons and the third his heart, but she laughed at them all (Tralala). The Neophyte tells how she found Damon playing his flute on the rocks (Tralala), how he drew her beside him and kissed her (Tralala), how her peace is gone and she still hears echoing in her ears his Tralalas. Als ich auf dem Euphratt schiffte When I embarked on the Euphrates, the golden ring slipped from my finger, the ring which I lately got from you. So I dreamed. The morning glow gleams through the trees. Say poet, say prophet, What did this dream mean?

Kennst du das Land A song of longing for the golden, serene south. Knowest thou the land where the lemons bloom, where the gentle winds blow? Thither would I go with you my love. Do you know the house with its gleaming pillars? Thither would I go with you. Knowest thou the mist-clouded mountains, with its dragon brood? Oh God, let us go there. FROM THE SPANISCHES LIEDERBUCH In dem Schatten meiner Locken In the shadow of my tresses my beloved has fallen asleep. Shall I wake him then? Ah no. I have smoothed my hair every day but the wind blows it awry. In the shadow of those tresses my beloved lies asleep. Shall I wake him now? Ah no. He tells me of his passionate burning longing for me. He calls me his viper, yet he sleeps by my side. Shall I wake him now? Ah no. Bedeckt mich mit Blumen Deck me with flowers; I am dying. Let not the breeze steal the perfume from me, for I know not which is sweeter, love or their scent. Gather jasmin and lilies for my grave. I am dying. You ask me of what. Of life's sweetest pain-I love. FROM THE ITALIENISCHES LIEDERBUCH O wär dein Haus Would that your house were made of glass. I should always see you and send you glances full of devotion. My loving looks would be more numerous than the drops in the rivers of March, my words more than the rain-drops from heaven. Du denkst mit einem Fädchen Do you imagine to capture me with a tiny thread and a look? I have caught better than you. So if I laugh don't trust me. I am in love but not with you. Wir haben beide We have long both been silent to each other, but speech has returned to us. The angels from heaven have brought us peace and filled my heart with peace and love.

Nein junger Herr No young fellow, that's not the way; you should behave more decently. I'm good enough for you on week-days, but you want something better on holidays. No, young man, if you continue so you'll need a new girl for the week-days too. FROM THE EICHENDORFF LIEDER Nachtzauber Dost hear the brooks amid the still lakes and the moonlit pictures in the solitude? From the mountains come the ancient melodies and majestic night approaches. Visions from below ascend as in a dream. From the blossoms of the flowers are seen unfolding snowy arms and rosy lips. The nightingale is pleading beneath the stars. Memory loves to roam where love lies bleeding. Die Zigeunerin The gipsy-woman stands by the cross-road in the dark and hears the dog's bark warning her of her lover's approach. "At dawn I saw a black cat stealing to the camp. A shot rang out that sent her squealing back." My love must be like the others, brown and mustachioed, with a wandering heart. Tra la la. V Wiegenlied Dream, my little one, dream of heaven whence you came to me as the blossoms of the morning. Dream, flower of my love, of the still, holy night when, through the flowers of Christ's love, this world was made heaven for me. Schlechtes Wetter Richard Strauss (1864-1949) Hat's gesagt, bleibt's nicht dabei MEMBERS' NIGHT Friday, October 30th, 1953. THE GREAT HALL at 7.45 p.m. The B.M.S. Choir, conducted by Professor Ivor Keys, will give a programme of old and modern works.