Photo Roger Quilter
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Roger Quilter - Biography
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Roger Quilter - Tulips | Lyrics
Bright tulips, we do know You had your coming hither And fading-time does show That ye must quickly wither Your sisterhoods may stay And smile here for your hour;
Roger Quilter - I Arise From Dreams of Thee | Lyrics
I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night When the winds are breathing low And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee And a spirit in
Roger Quilter - A Song at Parting | Lyrics
When I am dead, my dearest Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet;
Roger Quilter - A Last Year's Rose | Lyrics
From the brake the Nightingale Sings exulting to the Rose; Though he sees her waxing pale In her passionate repose While she triumphs waxing frail Fading even while she
Roger Quilter - April | Lyrics
April, April Laugh thy girlish laughter; Then, the moment after Weep thy girlish tears! April, that mine ears Like a lover greetest If I tell thee, sweetest All my
Roger Quilter - Autumn Evening | Lyrics
The yellow poplar leaves have strown Thy quiet mound, thou slumberest Where winter's winds will be unknown; So deep thy rest So deep thy rest Sleep on, my love, thy
Roger Quilter - Music and Moonlight | Lyrics
The keen stars were twinkling And the fair moon was rising among them Dear Jane: The guitar was tinkling But the notes were not sweet till you sung them Again As the
Roger Quilter - Orpheus With His Lute | Lyrics
Orpheus with his lute made trees And the mountain-tops that freeze Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There
Roger Quilter - The Night Piece | Lyrics
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee No
Roger Quilter - The Bracelet | Lyrics
Why I tie about thy wrist Julia, this my silken twist; For what other reason is't But to show thee how, in part Thou my pretty captive art? But thy bondslave is my
