How Many New Years (Jones1610/viii Tk4 Mix5
The author of the lyric is anonymous but I like to think of this song as Robert Jones speaking to the patron of this book; Lady Mary (Sidney) Wroth since ten year before he had dedicated his first Booke to her father Sir Robert Sidney.
Elisha Zaporelostzi's first performances were the Open Stages put on by the Bytown Live in Ottawa Ontario, Canada. It is how Neil Young and Joni Mitchell started.
Phreap magazine is a one page thing that went around Ottawa in the 1980s. Now it is a web site;
http://home.att.ne.jp/blue/patchan
With the help of Joe-Charly Smith, Molly Ding, Calhoon-Fred Febealie, and Butter Jones I was able to put out Phreap magazine.
Story behind the song
This is Take 4 and I did 7 Takes in all after Mykola started 2 keyboard bases Takes.
On August 27, 2009 - I started with guitar and did
5 guitar takes /(I also did the 4 takes of 'X. The Sea Hath Many Thousand Sands' that day.
On April 14, 2010 I did keyboard work.
On December 30 2010 middle keyboard was put down by Mykola on this Take 4 & the two keyboard takes - (Takes 6 & 7)
On May 18 2011 I did the main vocal.
The author of most Robert Jones songs is anonymous but I like to think of this song as Robert Jones speaking to the patron of this book; Lady Mary (Sidney) Wroth.
'Many new years' certainly had 'grown old' since ten year before he had dedicated his first Booke to her father Sir Robert Sidney (1563-1626),
the younger brother of the renown poet Sir Philip Sidney.
Lyrics
VIII. How many new years have grow'n old
How many new yeares have grown old,
Since first your servant old was new,
How many long hours have I told,
Since first my love was vowed to you,
And yet alas, She doeth not know
Whether her servant. love or no.
How many walls as white as Snow,
And windowes cleaere as any glass,
Have I conjured to tell you so,
Which faithfully performed was,
And yet you'll swear you do not know,
Whether your servant love or no.
How often hath my pale lean face,
With true Characters of my love,
Petitioned to you for grace,
Whom neither sighs nor tears can move,
O cruell yet doe you not know,
Whether your servant love or no?
And wanting oft a better token,
I have been faine to send my heart,
Which now your cold disdaine hath broken,
Nor can you healt by any art,
O looke upon't and you shall know,
Whether your servant love or no.