Paul McCreesh · Wrocławska Orkiestra Barokowa
The Seasons: Spring: See Winter, stern and gloomy, flees
Joseph Haydn - Die Jahreszeiten
Paul McCreesh, Wrocławska Orkiestra Barokowa
The Seasons: Spring: Come, gentle Spring
The Seasons: Spring: From Aries shines the brightening sun
The Seasons: Spring: With eagerness the countryman sets forth
The Seasons: Spring: The countryman has paid his dues
The Seasons: Spring: Heav'n be gracious, heav'n be bounteous
The Seasons: Spring: Our fervent pray'rs are heard
The Seasons: Spring: O what charming sights delight us
The Seasons: Summer: In darkness shrouded
Joseph Haydn - Die Jahreszeiten, Der Sommer: XIIb. Rezitativ. "Die Mittagssonne brennet jetzt" (Lukas)
The Seasons: Summer: The wakeful herdsman
The Seasons: Summer: Behold the Sun!
The Seasons: Summer: The village lads and lasses
The Seasons: Summer: Exhausted Nature, fainting, sinks
The Seasons: Summer: How welcome now, ye shady groves
The Seasons: Summer: How refreshing to the senses
The Seasons: Summer: Behold, arising through the sultry air
The Seasons: Summer: Ah! The storm approaches near!
The Seasons: Autumn: That which Spring has promis’d
The Seasons: Autumn: Thus Nature rewards our toil!
The Seasons: Autumn: See how a bunch of eager lads
The Seasons: Autumn: Fine ladies of the town
The Seasons: Autumn: On ravag’d hills
The Seasons: Autumn: See lo on yonder open field
The Seasons: Autumn: A tight’ning circle of hunters
The Seasons: Autumn: Hark, hear the sounds of the chase
The Seasons: Autumn: On vines, the grapes are glistening
The Seasons: Autumn: Drink up, drink up, the wine is here!
The Seasons: Winter: The jaded year now fades away
The Seasons: Winter: Light and life are enfeebl’d
The Seasons: Winter: The lake lies lock’d in frosty grip
The Seasons: Winter: The wand’rer stands perplex’d
The Seasons: Winter: And drawing near the welcome sight
The Seasons: Winter: Whirring, whirring, whirring!
The Seasons: Winter: Now the flax has all been spun
The Seasons: Winter: A noble squire, of great renown
The Seasons: Winter: And from the east there blows an icy blast
The Seasons: Winter: Consider then, misguided man
The Seasons: Winter: Then dawns that morn so glorious
