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Go and Catch a Falling Star

by Roary Skaista

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1.
Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till age snow white hairs on thee, Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me, All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear, No where Lives a woman true, and fair. If thou find'st one, let me know, Such a pilgrimage were sweet; Yet do not, I would not go, Though at next door we might meet; Though she were true, when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two, or three.
2.
Sigh No More 02:19
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more. Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never. Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey nonny, nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no more Of dumps so dull and heavy. The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leafy. Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey, nonny, nonny.
3.
Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best To use myself in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die. Yesternight the sun went hence, And yet is here today; He hath no desire nor sense, Nor half so short a way: Then fear not me, But believe that I shall make Speedier journeys, since I take More wings and spurs than he. O how feeble is man's power, That if good fortune fall, Cannot add another hour, Nor a lost hour recall! But come bad chance, And we join to'it our strength, And we teach it art and length, Itself o'er us to'advance. When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st not wind, But sigh'st my soul away; When thou weep'st, unkindly kind, My life's blood doth decay. It cannot be That thou lov'st me, as thou say'st, If in thine my life thou waste, That art the best of me. Let not thy divining heart Forethink me any ill; Destiny may take thy part, And may thy fears fulfil; But think that we Are but turn'd aside to sleep; They who one another keep Alive, ne'er parted be.
4.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
5.
Busy old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school boys and sour prentices, Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices, Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time. Thy beams, so reverend and strong Why shouldst thou think? I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink, But that I would not lose her sight so long; If her eyes have not blinded thine, Look, and tomorrow late, tell me, Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me. Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday, And thou shalt hear, All here in one bed lay. She's all states, and all princes, I, Nothing else is. Princes do but play us; compared to this, All honor's mimic, all wealth alchemy. Thou, sun, art half as happy as we, In that the world's contracted thus. Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be To warm the world, that's done in warming us. Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere; This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere.
6.
Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid. Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown. Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there!
7.
Had we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long love’s day. Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Until that we must pay our dues. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try That long-preserved virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust; The grave’s a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapped power. Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Through the iron gates of life: Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.

about

A collection of poems by Metaphysical poets John Donne and Andrew Marvell, as well as some songs from Shakespeare plays, which I have put to music over the years.

This album has been a long time coming, as it was at school that I first encountered John Donne's poetry. I remember reading the full title of his "Song (Go and Catch a Falling Star)" and thinking, "Huh, this is a song; guess I'd better think of a tune for it". I did the same for several others and then began, whenever we read any Shakespeare plays, to ask always to read the part of the musician or fool so that I could actually sing the songs rather than just read them out.

A few years ago I found my book of Metaphysical poetry again and remembered all the tunes I'd written to the poems therein and to various Shakespeare songs. I began to think up harmonies for some of them, but it was only when quarantined with my friend Cameron that a tangible plan actually began forming as to the album I wanted to produce. Through discussion with Cameron, I decided that the most apt form of accompaniment for these Renaissance pieces would be counterpoint harmony. We sat down and went through all my original ideas for accompaniment and turned them into something more fitting to the time period from which the words originate.

I'm aware that the finished product is still somewhat rough around the edges since this music is very different to what I normally produce and the accompaniments are far more complex to write. There are also places in which I've deliberately chosen not to stick with convention, so please don't nitpick if you're an early music nerd! We also recorded this all at home during quarantine and I'm not the best singer of early music. I am, however, quite pleased with the finished product and it's certainly come out better now than if I'd actually got my act together and produced it when I was first thinking of doing so!

My sincerest thanks goes to Cameron for the crash course in writing counterpoint harmony, for sitting and composing with me for hours on end and shutting me down when I got too excited about wanting to put parallel fifths in everywhere "to make it sound creepy". Also for their beautiful playing and their patience when I was too much of a perfectionist and wanted to re-record things, as well as for learning how to use a new recording and mixing software from scratch just for this project. As I said, the album has come out so much better than it would have done had I produced it earlier, and that is basically all down to Cameron.

Anyway, enough of all that. I hope you enjoy the music!

credits

released August 1, 2020

Words set to music by Roary Skaista
Arrangements by Roary Skaista and Cameron Alsop
Vocals - Roary Skaista
Accordion - Cameron Alsop
Clarinet - Cameron Alsop
Recorded and mixed by Cameron Alsop
Album artwork by thetinkid

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Roary Skaista UK

Roary Skaista is a queer folk musician based in Oxford, performing traditional folk songs as well as their own material on the themes of love, nature and diversity.

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