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Five Fantasias on Two Laments
1982

mezzo-soprano
2 flutes 1º doubling piccolo, 2º doubling alto flute
2 clarinets 2º doubling bass clarinet
harp 

duration 17'

first performance:
SPNM Concert: Mary King with Lontano, cond. Odaline de la Martinez
St. John's Smith Square, London / February 29, 1984

RECORDING—BBC studio recording by Sarah Walker with the Nash Ensemble:
n.b. this is poor quality transfer from a cassette tape
 
SCORE
Fantasia 1
Fantasia 2
Fantasia 3
Lament 1: The Banks O' Doon
Fantasia 4
Lament 2: How Well for the Birds
Fantasia 5

PROGRAM NOTE
Fantasia 1 and Fantasia 3 cleave fairly closely to the melodic material of Lament 1, albeit in an increasingly fragmented manner, but the other three Fantasias stray farther and act as outside commentators on the inward and unrelieved sadness of the two Laments. An early reviewer asked why the piece was so wistful – and I think it's simply because I wanted to write a wistful piece in which the mood remained fixed for the duration.

TEXTS
The Banks o' Doon
Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me of departed joys,
Departed never to return. 

Oft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its live,
And fondly sae did I o' mine. 
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw my rose,
But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me. 
Robert Burns (1759 – 1796) 


How Well for the Birds
How well for the birds that can rise in their flight,
And settle together on the one bough at night.
It is not so with me and the boy of my heart;
Each morning the sun finds us rising apart. 

How well for the flowers when my sweetheart goes walking.
How well for the house when he sits in it talking
How well for the woman with whom he´ll be sleeping;
Her morning star, and her star of evening. 

As white as the sloebush in spring is my darling;
As bright as the seabirds from wave to wave swarming.
As the sun fills the ocean all day with its gleaming,
Rising and setting he fills all my dreaming. 
traditional (Irish)