[Intro | solo fingerpicked guitar stating the main motif, soft intimate male vocal, almost spoken] The morning is the only proper time to write to a beautiful girl... at night the passion gets the sway and you would think me mad [Verse 1 | tender lieder-like male vocal, fingerpicked guitar, cello enters beneath] From a cottage window I can glimpse the sea; the morning's fine, and I should walk it free... as free as stags that wander on this coast, but the remembrance of you weighs on me. A trace of honey where your lips went by... I kiss your letter, lay it where you'd lie; I wish that we were butterflies, my love... three summer days, and then content to die. The very first week I knew you, I wrote myself your vassal... then burned the page, afraid of my own blaze. [Chorus 1 | gentle string swell like Air on the G String, heartfelt restrained vocal] My creed is love... and you its only tenet; I could be martyred, I could die for you. Two luxuries I brood on when I'm walking: your loveliness... and the hour of my death. O that I could hold them both in the same minute... I cannot breathe, I cannot breathe without you. [Verse 2 | hushed fragile male vocal, sparse guitar, viola counter-melody, adagio] One drop of blood... and I could read it plain: this illness is a long and weary lane, but one thin wall is all there is between us, and you are at the end... beyond the pane. You passed my window homeward yesterday; I followed with my eyes across the way and saw you as if for the very first time. Your little note half-cured me where I lay. Send me the words "Good night" to put under my pillow... and I will sleep the whole dark world away. [Chorus 2 | fuller strings, aching close harmonies, slowly building] My creed is love... and you its only tenet; I could be martyred, I could die for you. Two luxuries I brood on when I'm walking: your loveliness... and the hour of my death. You have absorbed me... I am dissolving... I cannot breathe, I cannot breathe without you. [Bridge | raw desperate male vocal, urgent string counterpoint, broken rhythm, free rubato] They talk of Italy... of gentler skies, as if there's air in rooms without your eyes. The world is chaff; the laughers laugh their fill... but suppose me in Rome: I'd see you still, I'd see you in a magic glass at every hour, going and coming, smiling... and not mine. I am greedy of you... do not think of anything but me. I wish I was within your arms, and full of faith... or that a thunderbolt would strike me where I stand. [Chorus 3 | full chamber arrangement, climactic with wide dynamics, then reined in] My creed is love... and you its only tenet; I could be martyred, I could die for you. Two luxuries I brood on when I'm walking: your loveliness... and the hour of my death. Upon my soul, I have loved you to the extreme... love me for ever... love me for ever. [Verse 3 | stripped back, solemn quiet vocal, slow cello and guitar duet] They send me south to Rome to chase the sun; the letters of my life are written, done. Yours come... I cannot bear to break the seal; they'll lay them on my heart, and we'll be one. And Fanny, when the word came, cut her hair, put on the widow's black she had no right to wear, and walked the Heath alone, long after midnight, till lantern-light came out to find her there. "I shall never be able to bid you an entire farewell"... and he never did: no letter, and no prayer. [Outro | single acoustic guitar returning to the opening motif, near-spoken male voice, fading to silence] In the book he gave her, in her steady hand, she wrote his last lines out: "Bright star... bright star, would I were steadfast"... and she wore his ring for four-and-forty years. Good night. Good night. Good night. [End]
