Come Away, Come Away, Death (Shakespeare, Vaughan Williams) 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, when my bones shall be thrown: A thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there! (Text by William Shakespeare (1564-1616), from Twelfth Night, Act II, scene 4 Set by Vaughan Williams in 1909) JIB oct99
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