 Serenade by Oscar Wilde Red for LibriVox.org by Anne Cheng The western wind is blowing fair Across the darker G&C And at the secret marble stair My Tyrion galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchwind sleeps within the town Oh, leave thy lily-flowered bed Oh, lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lovers' vales, she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain And I, who loved his loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily-hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, it is not the tangled dew It is not the silver-threaded sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily-hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Who we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, abort my gallant crew O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved for ever, ever more End of poem This recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibriVox.org by Carolyn Francis The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark a G&C And at the secret marble stair My Tyrion galley waits for thee Come down! The purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O leave thy lily-flowered bed O lady mine, come down! Come down! She will not come I know her well Of lovers' vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lovers' pain And I, who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain Must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, does not the tangled dew Does not the silver-frighted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abhorred, abhorred my gallant crew O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved for ever, evermore End of poem This recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibreVox.org by Eswa In Belgium in April 2008 The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark agency And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O live thy lily-flowered bed O lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lovers' vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lovers' pain And I, who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden air? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily-hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, it is not the tangled dew It is not the silver-freted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden air and lily-hand O noble pilot, stir for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, abort, my gallant crew O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, stir for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O love, this only loves a boy O love, for ever, ever more And of poem, this recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibriVox.org by Jimmy Anderson The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Aegean Sea And at the secret marble stair Mr. Tyrion galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O leave thy lily-flowered bed O lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lovers' vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain An eye who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily-hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, tis not the tangled dew Tis not the silver-fretted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair in lily-hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply thy laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must spare from grecian shore The waning sky grows faint in blue It wants an hour still of day Abored, abored, my gallant crew O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply thy laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved forever, evermore End of poem, this recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for Liberwax.org by J. C. Iguan Montreal, April 2008 The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark A, G, and C And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O, leave thy lily flowered bed O lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lover's bow she has no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain An eye who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion flowers there Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily hand Or is it but the gleaming prow Or is it but the silver sand No, no, it is not the tangled dew It is not the silver-freted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand O noble pilots, dear for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, aboard, my gallant crow O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved, as only loves the boy O loved, for ever, ever more And of poem, this recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibriVox.org by Kristen Hughes The western wind is blowing fair Across the darker G&C And at the secret marble stair My Tyrion galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O leave thy lily-flowered bed O lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of love as vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain And I, who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, it is not the tangled dew It is not the silver-fretted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, abort, my gallant crew O lady mine, away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved for ever, ever more The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Aegean sea And at the secret marble stair My Tyrion galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O leave thy lily-flowered bed O lady mine, come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lover's vows, she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain An eye who loved is loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady lily's hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, tis not the tangled dew Tis not the silver-fretted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, abort, my gallant crew O lady, mine away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved is only loves a boy O love for ever, ever more End of poem This recording is in the public domain Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibriVox.org by Matt Bonhoff The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Aegean sea And at the secret marble stair My Turan galley waits for thee Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town O leave thy lily-flowered bed O lady, mine come down, come down She will not come, I know her well Of lovers' vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair True love is but a woman's toy They never know the lover's pain And I, who loved, does love's a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, tis not the tangled dew Tis not the silver-fretted sand It is mine own, dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day Abort, abort, my gallant crew O lady, mine away away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved for ever, ever more End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Serenade by Oscar Wilde Red for LibriVox.org By Nicholas Turnbull The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark aegean sea And at the secret marble stair My Tyrion galley waits for thee. Come down, the purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town. O leave thy lily flowered bed, O lady mine Come down, come down. She will not come, I know her well Of lovers' vows she hath no care And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair. True love is but a woman's toy They never know that lovers' pain And I, who loved as loves a boy Must love in vain, must love in vain. O noble pilot, tell me true Is that the sheen of golden hair Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now Is that my lady's lily hand Or is it but the gleaming prow Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, tis not the tangled dew Tis not the silver-fretted sand It is my own dear lady true With golden hair and lily hand. O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore. The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day. Abort, abort, my gallant crew O lady mine away, away O noble pilot, steer for Troy Good sailor, ply the laboring oar O loved as only loves a boy O loved for ever, ever more. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Serenade by Oscar Wilde Read for LibriVox.org by Philippa Jevons London, April 2008 The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Aegean Sea And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee. Come down! The purple sail is spread The watchman sleeps within the town. O leave thy lily-flowered bed! O lady mine, come down! Come down! She will not come, I know her well. Of lovers vows she hath no care. And little good a man can tell Of one so cruel and so fair. True love is but a woman's toy. They never know the lover's pain. And I, who loved as loves a boy, Must love in vain, must love in vain. Oh, noble pilot, tell me true! Is that the sheen of golden hair? Or is it but the tangled dew That binds the passion-flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now! Is that my lady's lily-hand? Or is it but the gleaming prow? Or is it but the silver sand? No, no, it is not the tangled dew. It is not the silver-fretted sand. It is my own dear lady true, With golden hair and lily-hand. Oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy! Good sailor, ply the labouring oar! This is the queen of life and joy Whom we must bear from Grecian shore! The waning sky grows faint and blue It wants an hour still of day. Abort, abort, my gallant crew! Oh, lady mine, away, away! Oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy! Good sailor, ply the labouring oar! Oh, loved as only loves a boy! Oh, loved for ever, ever more! End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Serenade by Oscar Wilde, read for LibriVox.org by Rachel Linton, Bristol, UK. The western wind is blowing fair across the darker G&C and at the secret marble stair my Tyrian galley waits for thee. Come down, the purple sail is spread, the watchman sleeps within the town. Oh, leave thy lily-flowered bed, oh, lady mine, come down, come down. She will not come, I know her well. Of lovers' vows she hath no care and little good a man can tell of one so cruel and so fair. True love is but a woman's toy, they never know the lovers' pain, and I who lovers' loves a boy must love in vain, must love in vain. Oh, noble pilot, tell me true, is that the sheen of golden hair or is it but the tangled dew that binds the passion flowers there? Could sailor come and tell me now, is that my lady's lily hand or is it but the gleaming prow or is it but the silver sand? No, no, it is not the tangled dew, it is not the silver-fretted sand, it is my own dear lady true with golden hair and lily hand. Oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy, good sailor, ply the labouring oar, this is the queen of life and joy whom we must bear from Grecian shore. The waning sky grows faint and blue, it wants an hour still of day. Abort, abort my gallant crew, oh, lady, mine, away, away, oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy, good sailor, ply the labouring oar. Oh, love does only loves a boy, oh, loved forever, ever more. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Serenade by Oscar Wilde, redfilbervox.org by Schurzegal. The western wind is blowing fair across the dark Aegean Sea, and at the secret marble stair my tyrant galley waits for thee. Come down, the purple sail is spread, the watchman sleeps within the town, I'll leave thy lily-flowered bed, oh, lady, mine, come down, come down. She will not come down, I know her well. Of lovers' vows she hath no care, and little good a man can tell of one so cruel and so fair. True love is but a woman's toy. They never know the lover's pain, and I who loved is loves a boy, must love in vain, must love in vain. Oh, noble pilot, tell me true, is that the sheen of golden hair, or is it but the tangled dew that binds the passion flowers there? Good sailor, come and tell me now, is that my lady's lily-hand, or is it but the gleaming prow, or is it but the silver sand? No, no, tis not the tangled dew, tis not the silver-fretted sand, tis my own dear lady true with golden hair and lily-hand. Oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy, good sailor, ply the laboring oar, tis the queen of life and joy whom we must bear from Grecian shore. The waning sky grows faint in blue, it wants an hour still of day. Abort, abort, my gallant crew, oh, lady mine, away, away. Oh, noble pilot, steer for Troy, good sailor, ply the laboring oar, oh, loved is only loves a boy, oh, loved forever, ever more. End of poem. This recording is in public domain. For more information on the volunteer, please visit Librebox.org.