When love speaks
di Various Artists
Prodotto non disponibile
- € 19.80
Dettagli del prodotto
- Ean: 0724355732125
- Tipo di supporto: CD
- Etichetta: Emi mktg
- Artista: Various Artists
- Genere: Compilation
- Data uscita: 30-12-2004
Acquistabile con la Carta Cultura Giovani, Carta del Merito Contenuto
CD-1
Be not afeard, the isle is full of noises (The Tempest, Act III, Scene II) Live with me and be my love (from Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music) As an unperfect actor on the stage My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun Why is my verse so barren of new pride Who will believe my verse in time to come That you were once unkind befriends me now How oft, when thou, my music When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes Being your slave, what should I do but tend Tired with all these, for restful death I cry When I consider everything that grows Let those who are in favour with their stars They that have power to hurt and will do none Those lips that Love's own hand did make Come again, sweet love doth now invite Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me I never saw that you did painting need When to the sessions of sweet silent thought Is it thy will thy image should keep open Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war No more be grieved at that which thou hast done O never say that I was false of heart Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Some glory in their birth, some in their skill How heavy do I journey on the way Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore The quality of mercy is not strained (Portia - The Merchant of Venice) Sweet love, renew thy force be it not said SInce I left you, mine eye is in my mind Be wise as thou art cruel do not press Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye So is it not with me as with that Muse Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws The Willow Song (Desdemona - Othello) When my love swears that she is made of truth When I do count the clock that tells the time What potions have I drunk of siren tears Not marble nor the gilded monuments Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye Let me not to the marriage of true minds Music to hear, why hears't thou music sadly When forty winters shall besiege thy brow No longer mourn for me when I am dead In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck My love is as a fever, longing still The little Love-God lying once asleep Shall I compare thee to a summer's day Our revels now are ended (The Tempest, Act IV, Scene I)
Be not afeard, the isle is full of noises (The Tempest, Act III, Scene II) Live with me and be my love (from Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music) As an unperfect actor on the stage My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun Why is my verse so barren of new pride Who will believe my verse in time to come That you were once unkind befriends me now How oft, when thou, my music When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes Being your slave, what should I do but tend Tired with all these, for restful death I cry When I consider everything that grows Let those who are in favour with their stars They that have power to hurt and will do none Those lips that Love's own hand did make Come again, sweet love doth now invite Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me I never saw that you did painting need When to the sessions of sweet silent thought Is it thy will thy image should keep open Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war No more be grieved at that which thou hast done O never say that I was false of heart Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Some glory in their birth, some in their skill How heavy do I journey on the way Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore The quality of mercy is not strained (Portia - The Merchant of Venice) Sweet love, renew thy force be it not said SInce I left you, mine eye is in my mind Be wise as thou art cruel do not press Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye So is it not with me as with that Muse Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws The Willow Song (Desdemona - Othello) When my love swears that she is made of truth When I do count the clock that tells the time What potions have I drunk of siren tears Not marble nor the gilded monuments Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye Let me not to the marriage of true minds Music to hear, why hears't thou music sadly When forty winters shall besiege thy brow No longer mourn for me when I am dead In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck My love is as a fever, longing still The little Love-God lying once asleep Shall I compare thee to a summer's day Our revels now are ended (The Tempest, Act IV, Scene I)
