amazing - the ambience, your piano playing and the guard? rushing in, but, thanks heaven, without further disturbing. Thank you for posting this jewel.
The original song was written in 1837 composed by Frederick Crouch with lyrics by Marion Crawford.; "Mavourneen" is a term of endearment derived from the Irish meaning of "my beloved". It was a popular song during the American Civil war.
LYRICS
Kathleen, mavourneen, the grey dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking,
Kathleen, mavourneen, what! Slumbering still?
Oh, hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh, hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?
Kathleen, mavourneen, awake from thy slumbers,
The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light.
Ah! Where is the spell that once hung on thy numbers,
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night!
Mavourneen, mavourneen, my sad tears are falling,
To think that from Erin and thee I must part!
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?
One Comment I would like to quote here also:
"Thankfully, the old museum mentality of "original condition above all else" is slowly moving aside in favour of true preservation and restoration."
Of David Thomas Roberts' best-known piece, the composer wrote the following for his recording from "American Landscapes" :
"Roberto Clemente" (1979). Roberto Clemente, the legendary right fielder of the Pittsburgh Pirates, was born in Carolina, Puerto Rico in 1934 and died on New Year's Eve, 1972 off the coast of his native island in a plane that never reached the Nicaraguan earthquake victims to whom it was carrying supplies. Although familiar with Clemente during his career, I was no more mindful of him than of some other outstanding ballplayers. It was the film about him shown during the 1979 World Series that transformed my image of Clemente into a myth to be recalled with affection. Incisively moved by this poetic series of glimpses of his career and the circumstances of his death, I had decided by the film's end that there must be a ragtime composition for Clemente, a piece evocative of the man as I had viewed him via the documentary.
I have referred to Roberto Clemente as a "folk elegy" and a "country funeral." Marked "warmly and solemnly," it is a rag forthrightly typifying the plaintiveness -- the gentle anguish, even -- that I have always associated with the lyrical medium of ragtime.
Very nice playing!