What, then, did I want? What did I ask to have? If the question had been put to me then And if I had been capable of expressing what was in me I should have replied: I want only to keep what I have To rise each morning and look out on the sky And the grassy dew-wet Earth From day to day, from year to year To watch each June and July for spring To feel the same old sweet surprise and delight At th'appearance of each familiar flower Ev'ry new-born insect, ev'ry bird Returned once more from the north To listen in a trance of dеlight To the wild notes of the goldеn plover Coming once more to the great plain Flying south, flock succeeding flock The whole day long Oh, those wild beautiful cries of the golden plover! I could exclaim with Hafiz with but one word changed: If after a thousand years That sound should float o'er my tomb My bones uprising in their gladness Would dance in the sepulchre To climb trees and put my hand down In the deep hot nest of the Bienteveo And feel the hot eggs The five long-pointed cream coloured eggs With choc'late spots and splashes at the larger end To lie on a grassy bank, with the blue water Between me and beds of tall bulrushes List'ning to the mysterious sounds of the wind And of hidden rails and coots and courlands Conversing together in strange human-like tones; To let my sight dwell and feast On the camaloté flower Amid its floating masses of moist vivid green leaves The large almanda-like flower of a purest divine yellow That, when plucked, leaves you with nothing But a green stem in your hand. To ride at noon On the hottest days when the whole Earth is a-glitter With illusory water and see the cattle and horses In thousands cov'ring the plain At their watering places To visit some haunt of large birds At that still, hot hour And see storks, ibises, grey herons Egrets of a dazzling whiteness And rose-coloured spoon-bills And flamingoes standing in the shallow water In which their motionless forms are reflected To lie on my back on the rust-brown grass in January To gaze up at the wide hot whity-blue sky Peopled with millions and myriads of glist'ning balls Of thistledown, ever floating by To gaze and gaze, until they are to me living things And I, in an ecstasy am with them Floating in that immense shining void!
Read the complete lyrics to "Boyhood’s End" by Michael Tippett. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Pop.
"Boyhood’s End" is performed by Michael Tippett. This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data.
If you enjoy "Boyhood’s End", explore more songs by Michael Tippett using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.
"Boyhood’s End" is credited to Michael Tippett. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
Album information for "Boyhood’s End" is not available in our database yet. You can still read the full lyrics on this page.
Visit the Michael Tippett artist page at /artist/michael-tippett for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
