Literature in Songs

E A Poe gets converted to pop songster status with

ANNABELLE LEE

Oh the moon never beams
Without bringing me dreams
Of my beautiful Annabelle Lee
And the stars never rise
But I see the bright eyes
Of my beautiful Annabelle Lee

We're never apart
For I gave her my heart
She gave her heart to me
And I love with a love
That is more than just love
My adorable Annabelle Lee

Yes he gave his warm heart
To sweet Annabelle Lee
For he loved her so dearly you see
To think of her charms
Have been here in my arms
To think she loves only me
Heaven offers no more
I've been there before
In the arms of my Annabelle Lee


Blake fares much better with

HOW SWEET I ROAMED

How sweet I roamed from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride
Til I the prince of love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide

He shew'd me lillies for my hair
And blushing roses for my brow
He led me through his gardens fair
Where all his golden pleasures grow

With sweet May dews my wings were wet
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage
He caught me in his silken net
And shut me in his golden cage

He loves to sit and hear me sing
Then laughing sports and plays with me
Then stretches out my golden wing
And mocks my loss of liberty

Then stretches out my golden wing
And mocks my loss of liberty

edwin robinson:
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Paul Simon:
They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town,
With political connections to spread his wealth around.
Born into society, a banker's only child,
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style.
But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes:
Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show.
And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht!
Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got.

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch,
And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much,
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read:
"Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head."

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

Love it, dys.

Buffy Sainte-Marie took a passage from the Leonard Cohen novel of "Beautiful Losers" and recorded it on the "Illuminations" album.

God Is Alive; Magic Is Afoot

God is alive. magic is afoot (repeat three times)
Alive is afoot; magic never died
God never sickened
Many poor men lied
Many sick men lied
Magic never weakened
Magic never hid
Magic always ruled
God is afoot, God never died
God was ruler
Though his funeral lengthened
Though his mourners thickened
Magic never fled
Though his shrouds were hoisted
The naked God did live
Though his words were twisted
The naked magic thrived
Though his death was published
Round and round the world
The heart did not believe

(There are about three more stanzas, all accurate to the novel, I do believe)

From Donovan's "A Gift From a Flower To a Garden" we have Shakespeare and Lewis Carroll.

UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat
Come hither Come hither
Here shall he see no enemy
But winter and rough weather

Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live in the sun
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets
Come hither Come hither
Here shall he see no enemy
But winter and rough weather
And if it come to pass
That any man turn ass
(leaving) his wealth and ease
A stubborn will to please
Ducdame dusdame ducdame
There shall he see gross fools as he
And if he will come to me

The Carroll words are not on the liner notes, but he ends the song with:

Will you
Won't you
Will you
Won't you
Won' you join the dance

TURN! TURN! TURN!
wrds adapted from the Bible, book of Ecclesiastes
music by Pete Seeger


To everything turn turn turn
There is a season turn turn turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

Midnight, not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory? she is dancing alone



etc


cats TS Eliot adapted by Lloyd Webber

Ah, yas: T. S. Eliot. Thanks, Viv.

The opening lyrics for Maxwell Anderson and Kurt Weil's musical "Lost in the Stars" is, I think I remember, an exact transcription of the opening paragraph of Alan Paton's novel "Cry, the Beloved Country": --"There is a little road that runs from Ixopo into the hills. . . .etc".

If I am remebering that correctly, it is a great example prose being turned into song. Sorry I don't have a copy of the novel or my recording of the musical available to give you more "for sure" information.

Thanks, Kul; I would like to investigate that. But, not right now. It's my lazy time.

Well, Hair and Hamlet, of course!

What a piece of work is man!
How noble in reason,
How infinite in faculties,
In form and moving how express and admirable.
In action, how like an angel,
In apprehension, how like a god.
The beauty of the world,
The paragon of animals.

I have of late, but wherefore I know not
Lost all my mirth,
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
This most excellent canopy, the air, look you,
This brave o'er-hanging firmanent,
This majestical roof, fretted with golden fire,
Appears no other thing to me
Than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.

What a piece of work is man,
How noble in reason...


(This is the song, not the quote from Hamlet)

I had forgot about Hair. Thanks.

DOVER BEACH
based on Matthew Arnold's Wedding Poem, 1852

Ah, love
Let us be true
Let us be true to one another
The world which seems to lie
Before us like a land of dreams
So various, so beautiful, so new
Have really niether joy nor love
Nor sertitude nor peace nor help for pain
The world which seems to lie before us
Like a land of dreams
So various so beautiful so new
Have really niether joy nor love
Nor sertitude nor peace nor help for pain
And we are here as on, as on a darkling plain
Where ignorance armies clash by night
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Where ignorance armies clash by night

Let us be true to one another
Let us be true to one another
Let us be true, let us be true
Let us be true to one another

Kul and EB:
As Kul mentioned , (thank you Kul, for mentioning Lost in the Stars. It is such a beautiful musical) the opening song ,The Hills of Ixopo, is almost a direct quote from Paton's "Cry the Beloved Country." Since I no longer have Paton's novel, I played my CD to refresh my memory, so some of the words may be incorrect, but I did check on the spellings of a few African words and should not be too far off.

The Hills of Ixopo

There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the years.
These hills are grass covered and rolling
And they are lovely beyond any singing of it.
Above you there's grass and bracken
And you may hear the forlorn crying of the Tetihoya bird.
The grass of the veld is rich and matted
You cannot see the soil.
The grass holds rain and mist
They seep into the ground
Feeding the streams in every Kloof.
The Kloof is blue and green
And lovely beyond any singing of it.

What say now about the lower hills:

Where you stand the grass is rich and matted
But rich green hills break down
They fall to the valley below
And falling, they change.
For they grow red and bare
They cannot hold the rain and mist.
The streams run dry in the Kloof.
Too many cattle feed on the grass.

It is not kept or guarded or cared for
It no longer keeps men, guards men, cares for men.
The Tetihoya cries here no more.

The great red hills stand desolate
And the earth has torn away like flesh.
These are the valleys of old men and old women
Of mothers and children.
The men are away.
The young men and the girls are away
The soil cannot keep them anymore.

and although the song, Cry the Beloved Country has some changes in the wording, it follows Paton's novel very closely.

Cry, the beloved country, cry the beloved land
The wasted child, the wasted youth, the wasted men.
Cry the broken child and the broken hills
The right and wrong forsaken
The greed that destroys us
The birds that cry here no more.

Cry the unborn child, inheritor of our fear
Fatherless, let him not be too moved
Or give his heart too gladly
To the sound of a bird
Or give his heart to a mountain or to a valley.
Or stand to silent
when the setting sun makes the veld red with fire.

(Sorry for any errors.I'm doing this part from memory. And, of course, you must hear it sung, to appreciate the full beauty of it.)

ELP did this one from Blake's intro to 'Milton':

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold;
Bring me my arrows of desire;
Bring me my spear; O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

The Doors 'Alabama Song' (Wiell/Brecht)

Well, show me the way
To the next whiskey bar
Oh, don't ask why
Oh, don't ask why

Show me the way
To the next whiskey bar
Oh, don't ask why
Oh, don't ask why

For if we don't find
The next whiskey bar
I tell you we must die
I tell you we must die
I tell you, I tell you
I tell you we must die

Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you now why

Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you now why

Well, show me the way
To the next little girl
Oh, don't ask why
Oh, don't ask why

Show me the way
To the next little girl
Oh, don't ask why
Oh, don't ask why

For if we don't find
The next little girl
I tell you we must die
I tell you we must die
I tell you, I tell you
I tell you we must die

Oh, moon of Alabama
We now must say goodbye
We've lost our good old mama
And must have whiskey, oh, you now why

Thank you, raggedy -
It's beautiful. I have to confess I have never familiarized myself with any of it, but I will try after this.

Great topic, edgar - if I think of any more of these, I'll be back...

I've given up searching the lyrics to a song made from Blake's "Ah! Sunflower," which I believe was kept intact, though I am uncertain. Likewise, "The Swinburne Stomp", which uses lines written by Charles Swinburne.

Also, Alan Ginsburg's "Howl" was made into a sort of song.