Ode To A Nightingale By John Keats. Gustav Mahler-Symphony No 5 in C sharp, 4th mov, ‘Death In Venic - Benedict Cumberbatch
歌曲信息
歌曲名：Ode To A Nightingale By John Keats. Gustav Mahler-Symphony No 5 in C sharp, 4th mov, ‘Death In Venic
歌手：Benedict Cumberbatch
所属专辑：Words For You - The Next Chapter
作词：未知
作曲：未知
发行公司：未知
发行时间：2024-01-19
大小：4.93 MB
时长：05:23秒
比特率：129K
评分：0.0分
介绍：《Ode To A Nightingale By John Keats. Gustav Mahler-Symphony No 5 in C sharp, 4th mov, ‘Death In Venic - Benedict Cumberbatch》Benedict Cumberbatch & Benedict Cumberbatch演唱的歌曲，由未知作词、未知作曲。
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Ode To A Nightingale By John Keats. Gustav Mahler-Symphony No 5 in C sharp, 4th mov, ‘Death In Venic - Benedict Cumberbatch文本歌词
My heart aches,and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense,as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past,and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
That thou,light winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green,and shadows numberless
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O,for a draught of vintage! That hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance,and Provencal song,and sun-burnt mirth!
O,for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true,the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple stained mouth;
That I might drink,and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away,dissolve,and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness,the fever,and the fret
Here,where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few,sad,last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale,and spectre-thin,and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow
Away!away!for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee!tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But ,in embalmed darkness,guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass,the thicket,and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn,and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose,full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen;and ,for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rime
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing,and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death,immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth,when,sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath，
Charm’d magic casement,opening on the foam
Of perilous seas,in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam’d to do,deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows,over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision,or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
编辑于2024/02/08更新
My sense,as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past,and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,--
That thou,light winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green,and shadows numberless
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O,for a draught of vintage! That hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance,and Provencal song,and sun-burnt mirth!
O,for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true,the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple stained mouth;
That I might drink,and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away,dissolve,and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness,the fever,and the fret
Here,where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few,sad,last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale,and spectre-thin,and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow
Away!away!for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee!tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But ,in embalmed darkness,guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass,the thicket,and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn,and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose,full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen;and ,for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rime
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing,and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death,immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth,when,sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath，
Charm’d magic casement,opening on the foam
Of perilous seas,in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam’d to do,deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows,over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision,or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
编辑于2024/02/08更新
Ode To A Nightingale By John Keats. Gustav Mahler-Symphony No 5 in C sharp, 4th mov, ‘Death In Venic - Benedict CumberbatchLRC歌词
[00:01.76]My heart aches,and a drowsy numbness pains [00:06.66]My sense,as though of hemlock I had drunk, [00:09.71]Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains [00:14.09]One minute past,and Lethe-wards had sunk: [00:17.28]’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, [00:21.92]But being too happy in thine happiness,-- [00:25.39]That thou,light winged Dryad of the trees, [00:27.98]In some melodious plot [00:29.68]Of beechen green,and shadows numberless [00:32.62]Singest of summer in full-throated ease. [00:38.67]O,for a draught of vintage! That hath been [00:42.73]Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, [00:46.55]Tasting of Flora and the country green, [00:50.19]Dance,and Provencal song,and sun-burnt mirth! [00:55.53]O,for a beaker full of the warm South, [00:59.45]Full of the true,the blushful Hippocrene, [01:02.05]With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, [01:04.96]And purple stained mouth; [01:07.08]That I might drink,and leave the world unseen, [01:11.68]And with thee fade away into the forest dim: [01:16.42]Fade far away,dissolve,and quite forget [01:23.01]What thou among the leaves hast never known, [01:26.37]The weariness,the fever,and the fret [01:31.09]Here,where men sit and hear each other groan; [01:33.95]Where palsy shakes a few,sad,last gray hairs, [01:39.73]Where youth grows pale,and spectre-thin,and dies; [01:45.81]Where but to think is to be full of sorrow [01:49.93]And leaden-eyed despairs, [01:51.79]Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, [01:56.10]Or new Love pine at them beyond tomorrow [02:00.02]Away!away!for I will fly to thee, [02:05.56]Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, [02:08.78]But on the viewless wings of Poesy, [02:11.04]Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: [02:15.80]Already with thee!tender is the night, [02:20.10]And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, [02:23.50]Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays; [02:26.93]But here there is no light, [02:30.67]Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown [02:35.08]Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. [02:39.16]I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, [02:42.95]Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, [02:46.18]But ,in embalmed darkness,guess each sweet [02:50.84]Wherewith the seasonable month endows [02:53.01]The grass,the thicket,and the fruit-tree wild; [02:56.11]White hawthorn,and the pastoral eglantine; [03:00.89]Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves; [03:04.99]And mid-May’s eldest child, [03:07.58]The coming musk-rose,full of dewy wine, [03:12.06]The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. [03:16.82]Darkling I listen;and ,for many a time [03:22.09]I have been half in love with easeful Death [03:25.93]Call’d him soft names in many a mused rime [03:29.98]To take into the air my quiet breath; [03:35.04]Now more than ever seems it rich to die, [03:39.15]To cease upon the midnight with no pain, [03:43.77]While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad [03:47.86]In such an ecstasy! [03:50.20]Still wouldst thou sing,and I have ears in vain— [03:55.46]To thy high requiem become a sod. [04:01.19]Thou wast not born for death,immortal Bird! [04:06.20]No hungry generations tread thee down; [04:09.80]The voice I hear this passing night was heard [04:14.60]In ancient days by emperor and clown: [04:16.59]Perhaps the self-same song that found a path [04:20.01]Through the sad heart of Ruth,when,sick for home, [04:22.95]She stood in tears amid the alien corn; [04:26.73]The same that oft-times hath， [04:29.02]Charm’d magic casement,opening on the foam [04:32.75]Of perilous seas,in faery lands forlorn. [04:37.38]Forlorn! the very word is like a bell [04:41.31]To toll me back from thee to my sole self! [04:44.82]Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well [04:49.39]As she is fam’d to do,deceiving elf. [04:52.82]Adieu! adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades [04:57.90]Past the near meadows,over the still stream, [05:00.61]Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep [05:04.23]In the next valley-glades: [05:06.83]Was it a vision,or a waking dream? [05:10.60]Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep? [05:21.27]
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