File:Delibes - Lakmé - Aline Vallandri as Lakmé - Berger - The Victrola book of the opera.jpg

Identifier: victrolabookofop00vict (find matches)
Title: The Victrola book of the opera : stories of one hundred and twenty operas with seven-hundred illustrations and descriptions of twelve-hundred Victor opera records
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Victor Talking Machine Company Rous, Samuel Holland
Subjects: Operas
Publisher: Camden, N.J. : Victor Talking Machine Co.
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

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Text Appearing Before Image:
maid round her arm folding, This bracelet rich must oft entwine.Ah! what delight would be the holding,The hand that passes there, in mine.(Taking up a ring.)This ring of gold, my dream supposes, Oft has followed, wandring for hours,The small foot, that but reposes On mossy banks or beds of flowers. Hearing some one approaching, Gerald hides himselfin the shrubbery. Lakme enters and lays flowers at thefeet of an idol. She is about to go when she pausesand tries to analyze a strange feeling which has comeover her, saying:Lakme: In my heart now I feel theres a strange murmur,The flowrs are more lovely appearing,And Heavens more radiant now.From woods a new song I am hearing,Fond zephyrs caress my brow.#And a fragrance thats rare is filling,All my senses with a rapture so thrilling! She then sings her first lovely song, Away, fly, fond illusions, Swiftly passing visions that my reason dis-turb!Idle fancy, cradled by delusion, etc. Pourquoi dans les grands bois (Why Love I Thus to Stray ?)
Text Appearing After Image:
VALLANDRI AS LAKME By Alice Verlet, Soprano Lakme: Why love I thus to stray, In woods here, day by day, While tears have sway? Why doth the doves note sadden, And fill my heart with sighing; As doth a fading flowret, Or a leaf eastward flying? Yet are these tears most sweet to me Tho sad they be! And my heart is gladsome, Tho Im sighing, Im gladsome. (In French) *45006 10-inch, $1.00 Ah! why? Why look for reasons here, in the song of the stream,Where roses dream?In leaves that fall around?In my heart soft reposes, like a lily at rest,Sweeter balm than yield roses, by gentle winds caressed,Or by loving lips pressed. Tho I sigh, Im gladsome,Ah, why? She suddenly sees Gerald among the trees and utters a cry of fear. Her attendants runin, but some intuition tells her not to reveal Geralds presence, and she sends them away.Going to his hiding place she denounces him for trespassing on sacred ground, and bidshim begone. He begs her for a few moments conversation, and tells her of the impres

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