Bright sun warmed the air on this early spring day. Edward's thin, worn leather shoes beat upon the coarse gravel that paved the main street running through Bravia. He reached around his back, and removed his lute from the sack he carried it in. Carefully, he checked each string, making sure they all made a nice harmonious sound. The fingers on his left hand formed shapes on the fingerboard as he used his right hand to pluck out chords. They started to form the melody to a familiar song, so he stopped and sat upon a large flat rock on the side of the road and sang the tune. (midi file to music)
Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning breaks.
All the earth, all the air
of love and pleasure speaks:
Teach thine arms to embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutual bliss,
Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
Viewing, rueing love's long pain
Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain.
His voice carried on, as he began the second verse.
Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning wastes,
While the sun from his sphere
his fiery arrows casts,
Making all the shadows fly,
Playing, Staying in the grove
To entertain the stealth of love.
Thither, sweet love, let us hie,
Flying, dying in desire
Wing'd with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire.
After a brief interlude played on his lute, he continued on to the final verse, with even more passion than before.
Come away, come sweet love,
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace, that should rise
like to the naked morn.
Lilies on the riverside
And the fair Cyprian flow'rs newblown
Desire no beauties but their own,
Ornament is nurse of pride,
Pleasure, measure love's delight.
Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight!
Edward finished, the last notes lingering in the quietness. He placed his lute back in it's sack and continued walking along the road.
{ORP} Through the Streets
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