Dame Felicity Lott came to Zankel Hall on Monday night, to give a recital. Her recital had a theme – indeed, a title: “Fallen Women and Virtuous Wives.”Theme or no theme, title or no title, this was a program of almost 30 disparate songs (including encores), by about 20 different composers. And the program was consummately sung by one of the consummate singers of our time.

When I say that Dame Felicity is classically British,you’ll know what I mean: She is tasteful, dignified, intelligent, poised, gracious – did I say tasteful? Tastefulness is perhaps the hallmark of the British singer, or at least of the classic one.Vulgarity is unthinkable. Dame Felicity, a soprano, is known in particular for Mozart and Strauss. But she can sing anything, as she went a long way toward confirming on Monday night.

Dame Felicity is very close to 60, but she is in excellent shape, vocal and otherwise. And her singing is packed with experience. She is a wise singer, in addition to being a personable, delicious one. I have a feeling she started out wise, the passage of years be damned.

She had as her accompanist her longtime collaborator, Graham Johnson – one of a slew of consummate, tasteful British accompanists. Perhaps I should say British Commonwealth accompanists, for Mr. Johnson was born in Rhodesia. He studied with two of the greatest of his predecessors, Gerald Moore (born in England) and Geoffrey Parsons (Australia).

Dame Felicity and Mr. Johnson have been on this tour – their “Fallen Women and Virtuous Wives” tour – for about a year. And Zankel Hall was one of their last stops. They put on a really good show.

When the soprano took the stage,the applause was warm and long – these people had heard her before. Then Mr. Johnson made some charming remarks about the snow that had fallen, and they were off. They did not go chronologically, choosing to start with Kurt Weill: “Nanna’s Lied,” about a worldlywise prostitute. Dame Felicity sang it that way.

Then it was back in time, to Haydn and Mozart. The Mozart song was “Die Alte” (“The Old Woman”), in which Dame Felicity made sure to sound old, singing,”In my day, in my day.” She had also brought a prop: granny glasses.

From there, it was on to lieder of the Romantic era, some Schumann, Brahms, and Wolf. The Wolf song was the fast, palpitating “Ich hab in Penna einen Liebsten wohnen,” from “The Italian Songbook.” Mr. Johnson did not exactly play the (difficult) piano part with scherzo-like grace – but he got through it. Dame Felicity contributed an exciting high A on the key word “zehn” (“ten”). (That is the number of lovers the narrator has in Castiglione.)

Dame Felicity did no harm to her reputation as a Straussian, when she sang that composer’s “Drei Lieder der Ophelia.” This was maybe the high point of the evening. The soprano was the absolute master of diction, technique, sensibility. In the third song, when she sang “Fahr wohl, fahr wohl” (“Farewell, farewell”), she was almost unbearable – that’s how poignant these lines were.

Oddly enough, she and Mr. Johnson paused not at all, before launching into their next set: an English-language one. They might have intended this to be artistic, or deep. I found it plain weird.

The first of the set was “I Know Where I’m Going,” the Irish folk song. Dame Felicity’s great British predecessors, Kathleen Ferrier and Janet Baker, used to break hearts with this heartbreaking song. Dame Felicity did not sing it quite in that fashion – she was lighter – but she sang it well.And then it was Walton’s “Wapping Old Stairs,” sly and slinky. For my money, the piano part could have been less dry and picked at – but Mr. Johnson obviously knows this music.

Arthur Bliss, then one of Britten’s ingenious arrangements (“Sweet Polly Oliver”) – and, to close the first half of the recital, two more Weill songs. The second of them had a text by a good old American: Alan Jay Lerner (“Here I’ll Stay”).

Part of Felicity Lott’s versatility is to be a French singer, and she opened her second half with Roussel, Faure, and Duparc. She would later sing Poulenc and Hahn.

And a special treat, amid all this, was a set of Noel Coward – three numbers, beginning with “Spinning Song,” in which the composer parodies Schubert. Dame Felicity interpreted hilariously. She was also hilarious – or at least amusing – in the third song, “A Bar on the Piccola Marina,” terribly clever (Cowardesque). Dame Felicity ended this song with a high C that was almost there.

I might say, at this point, that she had memorized reams and reams of text for this recital. And she never missed a beat, or a syllable, as far as I could tell.

Oscar Straus wrote saucy songs, and Dame Felicity sang one of them – “Warum soll eine Frau kein Verhaltnis haben?” – very saucily, indeed. The final piece on the printed program was by Murray Grand: “What’s a Lady Like Me (Doin’ in a Joint Like This?).” Here Dame Felicity sounded like an American, and vampy. In the last iteration of “What’s a lady like me …,” she changed “lady” to “dame” – for she is one, whether the D is up or down!

The encores? Three, beginning with “Im chambre separee,” the beloved operetta aria by Heuberger. We associate it with Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, who sang it intoxicatingly. In my view, Dame Felicity was a touch mannered in it – but she still convinced. We then had some music from Offenbach’s “La Belle Helene,” and, finally, “O Waly,Waly. “That song is every British singer’s birthright, and Dame Felicity claimed it wonderfully.

Those in attendance floated out of the hall as on a cloud. They were sighing, shaking their heads at one another, as if to say, “Can you believe what we just heard? Wasn’t it satisfying?” It was very,very satisfying, and there may not be a better vocal recitalist alive than the woman some call “Flott.”