Sequenced by Colin Johnson

[Chorus] Painted emblems of a race,
All accurst in days of yore,
Each from his accustomed place
Steps into the world once more.

Baronet of Ruddigore,
Last of our accursed line,
Down upon the oaken floor--
Down upon those knees of thine.

Coward, poltroon, shaker, squeamer,
Blockhead, sluggard, dullard, dreamer,
Shirker, shuffler, crawler, creeper,
Sniffler, snuffler, wailer, weeper,
Earthworm, maggot, tadpole, weevil!
Set upon thy course of evil,
Lest the King of SpectreLand
Set on thee his grisly hand!

[Roderic] Beware! beware! beware!

[Robin] Gaunt vision, who art thou
That thus, with icy glare
And stern relentless brow,
Appearest, who knows how?

[Roderic] I am the spectre of the late
Sir Roderic Murgatroyd,
Who comes to warn thee that thy fate
Thou canst not now avoid.

[Robin] Alas, poor ghost!

[Roderic] The pity you
Express for nothing goes:
We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!

[Chorus] We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!

[Roderic] When the night wind howls
in the chimney cowls,
and the bat in the moonlight flies,
And inky clouds,
like funeral shrouds,
sail over the midnight skies;
When the footpads quail
at the nightbird's wail,
and black dogs bay at the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday, then is the ghosts' high noon!

[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Roderic] For then is the ghosts' high noon!

[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Rod. & Ch.] high noon! then is the ghosts' high noon!

[Roderic] As the sob of the breeze
sweeps over the trees,
and the mists lie low on the fen,
From grey tombstones
are gathered the bones
that once were women and men,
And away they go,
with a mop and a mow,
to the revel that ends too soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday--
the dead of the night's high noon!
[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Roderic] The dead of the night's high noon!
[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Rod. & Ch.] high noon! The dead of the night's high noon!

[Roderic] And then each ghost
with his ladyetoast
to their churchyard beds takes flight,
With a kiss, perhaps,
on her lantern chaps,
and a grisly grim "goodnight";
Till the welcome knell
of the midnight bell
rings forth its jolliest tune,
And ushers in our next high holiday--
the dead of the night's high noon!
[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Roderic] The dead of the night's high noon!
[Chorus] Ha! ha!
[Rod. & Ch.] high noon! The dead of the night's high noon!
[Chorus] Ha! ha! ha! ha!

By Arthur Sullivan
Generated by NoteWorthy Composer

No19 - Painted emblems
Lyrics
Staff-1
Sir Roderic
Tenors I
Tenors II
Basses I
Basses II
Right Hand
Left Hand