From the Opera “Faust”, undated
English words by Henry F. Chorley
French words by Michel Carre and Jules Barbier
Music by Charles Gounod
The sheet music:
Lyrics
Gentle flowers in the dew
Be message from me
And to flower that is rarer
O proclaim she is fairer
And more precious than you
Though fair you be
How my life I surrender
With your beauty so tender
How my life I surrender
With your beauty so tender
For the joy would be sweet
To die at her feet
‘Tis withered
Alas! that dark stranger foretold me
What my fate must be
Never to touch a single flower
But it must wither
Suppose I dip my hand in holy water
Behind the abbey door
While Margarita is at her prayers
Yes, I will try to charm tomorrow
This is not withered, No!
Avaunt! I mock at thy lies
Gentle flowers, lie ye there
And tell her from me
Of my long weary waiting
Of my heart wildly beating
While to her in the air
I bended my knee
Gentle flowers lie ye there
And tell her from me
Would she deign but to hear me
And with one smile to cheer me
For a moment so sweet I would die at her feet
I would die, would die at her feet
I would die, would die at her feet