- Ravel, Maurice
Daphnis et Chloe: Ballet en un Acte de Michel Fokine, musique de Maurice Ravel.
, Paris, 1949, Cloth, , , Very Good /No Jacket
[i-viii], 1–308, A-G (appendice apres la page 95) Partition d’orchestre, format de poche (octavo-size pocket score). This edition copyright 1913 but printed in 1949. Plate number D. & Cie 8920. "W. Guidez, Gr., Avril 1949 Imp. a A. Mounot, Paris." Black cloth with gold stamping on spine, light wear. he pages, in general, are still supple, but are beginning to oxidize and there is brittleness near the edges. With the signature of composer Burt Levy (1936–2010) on the front pastedown. In preliminaries: principal dancers (Karsavina, Nijinsky, et al.), Chef d’Orchestre () M. Pierre Monteaux, Mise en Scene (), M. Michel de Fokine, and Decors et Costumes, (M. Leon Bakst) listed for first performance at the Theatre du Chatelet Saison Russe organized by M. Serge de Diaghilew [Diaghilev] (8 Juin 1912); nomenclature des instruments.
THE MUSES THRENODIE.
Furthwith we dress’d us in our archer grath, And to the fields we came, like men in wrath: When we our nerves and tendons had extended, Incontinent our bowes were bravely bended: The skie was wondrous cleer, Apollo fair, Greatly delighted to behold us there: And did disperse the clouds, that he might see What matchless skill we prov’d in archerie. The cristal river Phœbus beams reflected, As glad of us, them in our face directed: The flowerie plains, and mountains all the while That we were shooting merrilie did smile. Mean while, for honours praise, as we were swelting The sweat from off our brows and temples melting, Phœbus, as seeming to envie our skill, His quiver with some fierie shafts did fill, And from his silver bow, at us he darted These shafts, to make us faint and feeble-hearted: Whose mighty force we could not well oppose, Under a shade we therefore did repose A pretty while hard by a silver streame, Which did appeare some melodie to frame, Running alongst the snow-white pibble stones Mourning, did murmure joys, commix’t with moanes. A cup I had with woodbind of the wall, And drinking said, this to you Mr Gall, Quoth he, Monsier, since that we have no better, With all mine heart, I will you pledge in water. This brook alongst the flowerie plain meanders, And in a thousand compasses it wanders; And as it softly slides so many wayes, It sweetly sings as many roundelayes, And harmonie to keep, the honie bees Their trumpets sound amongst the flowers and trees.Henry Adamson [1581–1637]