How Many New Years (Jones1610/viii Tk2 instrum
This is only 3 tracks and it was left without a vocal. Take 4 was my best take but it got a little muddy and when I go back to this Take 2 I enjoy some of the simple moments in it.
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
I started this with guitar on August 27, 2009 - the year before the 400 anniversary. I did 5 guitar takes and I also did 4 takes of "X. The Sea Hath Many Thousand Sands" - and this picture is from that day.
I did the keyboard melody for all the 1st 5 takes on April 13, 2010. The picture on Take 4 shows me on April 14, 2010 doing keyboard bass for take 1 (Take 1 is really bad).
I did the - keyboard woodbass (August 20, 2010) so I did make it on the 400 anniversary of this ayre - no vocal
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.
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.
