To Calm This Restless Discontent 歌词

歌曲	To Calm This Restless Discontent
歌手	H.E.R.R.
专辑	Vondel's Lucifer - First Movement
下载	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Joost van den Vondel
	Chorus of Angels:

	Strophe

	How glares the noble front of Heaven!
	Why streams the holy light so red
	Upon our face, overspread
	With mournful mists from darkness driven?
	What sad cloud hath profaned
	That pure and never-stained
	Clear sapphire, wondrous bright.
	The fire, the flame, the light
	Of the resplendent Power,
	Omnipotence? Why doth that glow
	Of God as black as blood thus grow
	That in our aery bower
	So pleased our eyes? O Angels, say
	The cause of this deep gloom now dimming
	Your radiance? O'er Adam's sway
	On choral raptures ye were swimming,
	On Spirit breath, amid a glow
	That vault and choir and court below
	And towers and battlements o'erflooded
	With showers of gold, while joys unclouded
	Smiled from the brows of all that live:
	Who is it can the reason give?

	Antistrophe

	When Gabriel's trumpet, richly sounding,
	Inflamed our souls till a new song
	Of praise burst forth among
	Those dales, with roses fair abounding,
	'Mid the celestial bowers
	Of Paradise, whose flowers
	Did ope, joyed by such dew
	Of praise, then upwards through
	The vast seemed Envy stealing.
	A countless host of Spirits dumb.
	And wan and pale and sad and grum,
	In crowds, dire woe revealing,
	Crept slowly past, with drooping eye,
	And forehead smooth now frowning rimple.
	The doves of Heaven here on high,
	Once innocent and pure and simple,
	Began to sigh, and seemed to grieve
	As if e'en Heaven they did believe
	Too small since Adam was created,
	And man for such a crown was fated.
	This stain offends the Eye of Light:
	It flames the face of the Infinite.

	In love we would yet mingle in their ranks:
	Again to calm this restless discontent.

	zuo ci : Joost van den Vondel
	Chorus of Angels:

	Strophe

	How glares the noble front of Heaven!
	Why streams the holy light so red
	Upon our face, overspread
	With mournful mists from darkness driven?
	What sad cloud hath profaned
	That pure and neverstained
	Clear sapphire, wondrous bright.
	The fire, the flame, the light
	Of the resplendent Power,
	Omnipotence? Why doth that glow
	Of God as black as blood thus grow
	That in our aery bower
	So pleased our eyes? O Angels, say
	The cause of this deep gloom now dimming
	Your radiance? O' er Adam' s sway
	On choral raptures ye were swimming,
	On Spirit breath, amid a glow
	That vault and choir and court below
	And towers and battlements o' erflooded
	With showers of gold, while joys unclouded
	Smiled from the brows of all that live:
	Who is it can the reason give?

	Antistrophe

	When Gabriel' s trumpet, richly sounding,
	Inflamed our souls till a new song
	Of praise burst forth among
	Those dales, with roses fair abounding,
	' Mid the celestial bowers
	Of Paradise, whose flowers
	Did ope, joyed by such dew
	Of praise, then upwards through
	The vast seemed Envy stealing.
	A countless host of Spirits dumb.
	And wan and pale and sad and grum,
	In crowds, dire woe revealing,
	Crept slowly past, with drooping eye,
	And forehead smooth now frowning rimple.
	The doves of Heaven here on high,
	Once innocent and pure and simple,
	Began to sigh, and seemed to grieve
	As if e' en Heaven they did believe
	Too small since Adam was created,
	And man for such a crown was fated.
	This stain offends the Eye of Light:
	It flames the face of the Infinite.

	In love we would yet mingle in their ranks:
	Again to calm this restless discontent.

	zuò cí : Joost van den Vondel
	Chorus of Angels:

	Strophe

	How glares the noble front of Heaven!
	Why streams the holy light so red
	Upon our face, overspread
	With mournful mists from darkness driven?
	What sad cloud hath profaned
	That pure and neverstained
	Clear sapphire, wondrous bright.
	The fire, the flame, the light
	Of the resplendent Power,
	Omnipotence? Why doth that glow
	Of God as black as blood thus grow
	That in our aery bower
	So pleased our eyes? O Angels, say
	The cause of this deep gloom now dimming
	Your radiance? O' er Adam' s sway
	On choral raptures ye were swimming,
	On Spirit breath, amid a glow
	That vault and choir and court below
	And towers and battlements o' erflooded
	With showers of gold, while joys unclouded
	Smiled from the brows of all that live:
	Who is it can the reason give?

	Antistrophe

	When Gabriel' s trumpet, richly sounding,
	Inflamed our souls till a new song
	Of praise burst forth among
	Those dales, with roses fair abounding,
	' Mid the celestial bowers
	Of Paradise, whose flowers
	Did ope, joyed by such dew
	Of praise, then upwards through
	The vast seemed Envy stealing.
	A countless host of Spirits dumb.
	And wan and pale and sad and grum,
	In crowds, dire woe revealing,
	Crept slowly past, with drooping eye,
	And forehead smooth now frowning rimple.
	The doves of Heaven here on high,
	Once innocent and pure and simple,
	Began to sigh, and seemed to grieve
	As if e' en Heaven they did believe
	Too small since Adam was created,
	And man for such a crown was fated.
	This stain offends the Eye of Light:
	It flames the face of the Infinite.

	In love we would yet mingle in their ranks:
	Again to calm this restless discontent.

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