College of Saint Benedict and Saint John's University



Texts Set by Herbert HowellsAccording to Finzi’s 1954 article, Howells abandoned the use of opus numbers after op 41 (which was circa 1920).Yr wrtnYr Pub’dGenreTitle of Multi-text WorksTitle of Single-text WorksPoet(s)Date/Title of SourceTexts1909 (u)Solo songMy ShadowStevensonChild’s Garden of VersesI have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, / And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. / He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; / And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. //The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- / Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; / For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, / And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all. // He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, / And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. / He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see; / I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me! / One morning, very early, before the sun was up, / I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; / But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, / Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.1911 (u)Solo songLongingMacLeodO would I were the cool wind that's blowing from the sea,Each loneliest valley I would search till I should come to thee.In the dew on the grass is your name, dear, i' the leaf on the tree // O would I were the cool wind that's blowing from the sea.O would I were the cool wind that's blowing far from me -- The grey silence, the grey waves, the grey wastes of the sea.1911 (u)Solo songA Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 201The Twilight PeopleO’Sullivan, Seumas (1879-1958)1905, The Twilight PeopleIt is a whisper among the hazel bushes ; It is a long, low, whispering voice that fills With a sad music the bending and swaying rushes ; It is a heart-beat deep in the quiet hills. Twilight people, why will you still be crying, Crying and calling to me out of the trees? For under the quiet grass the wise are lying, And all the strong ones are gone over the seas. And I am old, and in my heart at your calling Only the old dead dreams a-fluttering go ; As the wind, the forest wind, in its falling Sets the withered leaves fluttering to and fro.1911 (u)Solo songA Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 202 The DevoteeKoehler, Thomas1911 (u)Solo songA Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 203 The Waves of BreffnyGore-Booth, EvaThe grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea, And there is traffic in it and many a horse and cart, But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me, And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart. A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o’er the hill, And there is glory in it and terror on the wind, But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still, And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind. The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way, Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal, But the Little Waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray, And the Little Waves of Breffny go stumbling through my The grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea, And there is traffic on it and many a horse and cart, But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart. // A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o'er the hill, And there is glory in it; and terror on the wind: But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still, And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind. // The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way, Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal; But the little waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray, And the little waves of Breffny go stumbling through my soul.1911 (u)Solo songA Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 204 The Sorrow of Love (orig: “The Love-Gift of Sorrow”)O’Sullivan, Seumas (1879-1958)1912, PoemsFor all my sorrow I have been more glad / Than those that know but joy, for I have had / This thought that is of all my thought / more near / Than my own heart, this thought for solace. // Dear, In the long years to come when you have / grown / More gentle, almost lovelier, having known The things that wait about a woman's / heart; / One day when you have turned from all / apart / And come to your own self again, a thought / Will come to you, immortal, being wrought Out of all love and sorrow in my own heart, / And you will bend your head lower and / sigh Because of that great love that you passed by.1911 (u)Solo songA Cycle of Five Songs for Low Voice, Op. 205 The CallRoberts, George19121990Sacred choralMissa Sine Nomine (in the Dorian Mode)19131913Sacred choralEven Such is TimeRaleigh, Sir WalterEven such is time, that takes in trust / Our youth, our joys, our all we have, / And pays us but with earth and dust; / Who, in the dark and silent grave, / When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days: / But from this earth, this grave, this dust, / My God shall raise me up, I trust.19131999Solo songFive Songs, op. 7‘St. Bride’s Song’Macleod, Fiona (William Sharp)From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901Oh, Baby Christ, so dear to me, / Sang Bridget Bride: / How sweet thou art, / My baby dear, / Heart of my heart ! Heavy her body was with thee, / Mary, beloved of One in Three, / Sang Bridget Bride--/Mary, who bore thee, little lad: / But light her heart was, light and glad / With God's love clad.Sit on my knee, / Sang Bridget Bride: / Sit here / O Baby dear, / Close to my heart, my heart: / For I thy foster-mother am, / My helpless lamb! / O have no fear, / Sang good St. Bride.None, none, / No fear have I: / So let me cling / Close to thy side / While thou dost sing, / O Bridget Bride!My Lord, my Prince, I sing: / My Baby dear, my King! / Sang Bridget Bride.19131999Solo songFive Songs, op. 7By the Grey StoneMacleod, Fiona (William Sharp)Through the Ivory Gate (1901)It is quiet here : the wet hill-wind's sigh Sobs faintly, as though behind a curtain of thick grass. The vanishing curlew wails a fading cry. I can hear the least soft footfall pass. Is a shrewmouse I hear, or does the night-moth whirr? I have waited so long, so long, so long, alas ! No one. No one. I hear no faintest stir. Yet Love spake once, with lips of flame and eyes of fire, With burning frankincense and myrrh — Spake, and the vow was even as DesireTerrible, winged, magnific, crested with flame, So that I bowed before it, mounting gyre upon gyre. . . . I see now a grey bird by the grey stone of no name : It is blind and deaf, and its wings are tipped with mire. Is it love's lordly vow or mine own bitter shame? 19131999Solo songFive Songs, op. 7The Valley of SilenceMacleod, Fiona (William Sharp)From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901In the secret Valley of Silence????????No breath doth fall;No wind stirs in the branches;????????No bird doth call:????????As on a white wall????????????A breathless lizard is still,????????So silence lies on the valley????????????Breathlessly still.In the dusk-grown heart of the valley????????An altar rises white:No rapt priest bends in awe????????Before its silent light:????????But sometimes a flight????????????Of breathless words of prayer????????White-wing'd enclose the altar,????????????Eddies of prayer.19131999Five Songs, op. 7When the Dew is FallingMacleod, Fiona (William Sharp)From the Hills of Dream: Threnodies, Songs and Other Poems, 1901When the dew is fallingI have heard a callingOf aerial sweet voices o'er the low green hill;And when the moon is dyingI have heard a cryingWhere the brown burn slippeth thro' the hollows greenand still.And O the sorrow upon me,The grey grief upon me,For a voice that whispered once, and now for aye isstill:O heart forsaken, callingWhen the dew is falling,To the one that comes not ever o'er the low green hill.19131999Solo songFive Songs, op. 7When there is PeaceMacleod, Fiona (William Sharp)The Hour of Beauty (1907)There is peace on the sea to-night Thought the fish in the white wave : // There is peace among the stars to-night / Thought the sleeper in the grave : // There is peace in my heart to-night / Sighed Love beneath his breath ; // For God dreamed in the silence of His might / Amid the earthquakes of death. 1913 (m)Sacred choralTe lucis ante terminumTe lucis ante terminum, / rerum Creator, poscimus / ut pro tua clementia / sis praesul et custodia // Procul recedant somnia / et noctium phantasmata; / hostemque nostrum comprime, / ne polluantur corpora // Praesta, Pater piissime, / Patrique compar Unice, / cum Spiritu Paraclitoregnans per omne saeculum. To Thee, before the close of day / Creator of the world, we pray / that with Thy wonted favor, Thou / wouldst be our Guard and Keeper now. // From all ill dreams defend our eyes, / from nightly fears and fantasies: / tread under foot our ghostly foe, / that no pollution we may know // O Father, that we ask be done / through Jesus Christ Thine only Son, / who, with the Holy Ghost and Thee, / shall live and reign eternally1913 (u)Solo songThe Evening Darkens OverBridges, RobertThe evening darkens over After a day so bright, The windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night. There's sound of distant thunder. // The latest sea-birds hover Along the cliff's sheer height;As in the memory wander Last flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white. // There's not a ship in sight; And as the sun goes under, Thick clouds conspire to cover The moon that should rise yonder. Thou art alone, fond lover 19141989Sacred choralNunc Dimittis (Latin)1914(u)Chorus & orch.The Lord Shall Be My Help19141914Sec. choralWeep You No More Sad FountainsAnonymousWeep you no more, sad fountains; What need you flow so fast? / Look how the snowy mountains Heav'n's sun doth gently waste. But my sun's heav'nly eyes / View not your weeping / That now lies sleeping, / Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping. // Sleep is a reconciling, / A rest that Peace begets. / Doth not the sun rise smiling / When fair at e'en he sets Rest you then, rest, sad eyes, / Melt not in weeping / While she lies sleeping, / Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping.19151916 (ns)Sec. choralIn Youth is PleasureWever, RobertIn a harbour grene aslepe whereas I lay, / The byrdes sang swete in the middes of the day, / I dreamed fast of mirth and play: / In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.Methought I walked still to and fro, / And from her company I could not go / But when I waked it was not so: / In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. / Therefore my hart is surely pyghtOf her alone to have a sight / Which is my joy and hartes delight: / In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.1915 1919Sec. choralFive Partsongs, op. 111 The ShepherdBlake, WilliamHow sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot! / From the morn to the evening he strays; / He shall follow his sheep all the day,And his tongue shall be filled with praise. / For he hears the lambs' innocent call,And he hears the ewes' tender reply; / He is watchful while they are in peace, / For they know when their shepherd is nigh.19151919Sec. choralFive Partsongs, op. 112 The PilgrimBlake, WilliamPhoebe drest like beauty's queen,Jellicoe in faint pea-green,Sitting all beneath a grot,Where the little lambkins trot. // Maidens dancing, loves a-sporting, / All the country folks a-courting, / Susan, Johnny, Bob, and Joe, / Lightly tripping on a row. // Happy people, who can beIn happiness compar'd with ye?The pilgrim with his crook and hat / Sees your happiness complete.19151919Sec. choralFive Partsongs, op. 113 A CroonAnonymousHush-a-ba, birdie, croon, croon;Hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, / The sheep are gane to the silver wood,And the cows are gane to the broom, broom. / And it’s braw milking the kye, kye, / An’ it’s braw, braw milkin’ the kye. / The birds are singing, the bells are / ringing, And the wild deer come galloping by. / And hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, croon; / Hush-a-ba, birdie, croon, / The gaits are gane to the mountains hie, / And they’ll no’ be hame till noon, noon.1915 1919 Sec. choralFive Partsongs, op. 114 A Sad StoryAnonymousThree children sliding on the ice / Upon a summer's day, / As it fell out, they all fell in, / The rest they ran away. / Now had these / children been at home, / Or sliding on dry ground, / Ten thousand pounds to one penny / They had not all been drowned. / You parents all that children have, / And you that have got none, / If you would have them safe abroad, / Pray keep them safe at home. 19151919Sec. choralFive Partsongs, op. 115. Come All Ye Pretty Fair MaidsAnonymousAn Old Game RhymeA dis, a green e all ye pretty fair maids, And dance along with us, For we are going a-roving in this land ; We'll take this pretty fair maid, We'll take her by the hand.Ye shall get a duke, my dear, And ye shall get a young prince for your sake.And if this young prince chance to die,Ye shall get another; The bells will ring, and the birds will sing, And we'll all clap our hands together.19151915Sacred choralFour Anthems of the Blessed Virgin Mary, op. 9Regina CoeliRegina coeli laetare Alleluia. Quia quem meruit portare, Alleluia. Resurrexit, sicut dixit, Alleluia. Ora pro nobis Deum. Alleluia.1915 1988Sacred choralFour Anthems of the Blessed Virgin Mary, op. 9Salve ReginaAnonymousPossibly by Hermann the Lame [1013-1054] of Reichenau or by Adhemar, Bp. Of Le Puy (?-1098)Salve Regina, Mater misericordiae, / vita, dulcedo et spes nostra, salve. / Ad te clamamus, exsules filii Evae. / Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentesin hac lacrimarum valle. / Eia ergo, advocata nostra, / illos tuos misericordes oculos / ad nos converte. / Et Jesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, / nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. / O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Virgo Maria.19151919Solo songFour Songs, Op. 2201 – There was a MaidenCourtney, William Leonard (1850-1928)There was a kingdom fair to see,But pale, so pale, with never a rose:The cold wind blows across the lea,Westward the pale sun goes.There was a maiden, soft and dear,But pale, so pale, with never a rose:Each quiv'ring eyelid holds a tear,Seaward her sad heart goes.19151919Solo songFour Songs, Op. 2203 – The Widow BirdShelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)Charles the FirstA widow bird sat mourning for her loveUpon a wintry bough,The frozen wind crept on above;The freezing stream below.There was no leaf upon the forest bare,No [flow'r]1 upon the groundAnd little motion in the air,Except the mill-wheel's sound.19151918Solo songThree Rondeaux, Op. 11/1201 – Roses About the Arbour EntwinedTarelli, Charles Camp***19151918Solo songThree Rondeaux, Op. 11/1202 – A Rondel of RestSymons, Arthur1914, Poems of Arthur Symons, Vol 2, in The Loom of DreamsThe peace of a wandering sky,Silence, only the cryOf the crickets, suddenly still,A bee on the window sill,A bird's wing, rushing and soft,Three flails that tramp in the loft,Summer murmuringSome sweet, slumberous thing,Half asleep; but thou cease,Heart, to hunger for peace,Or, if thou must find rest,Cease to beat in my breast.19151918Solo songThree Rondeaux, Op. 11/1203 – Her Scuttle HattAnon., adapt. Frank Dempster ShermanHer scuttle Hatt is wondrous wide, / All furrie, too, on every side, / Soe out She trippeth daintylie, / To lett y e Youth full well to see, / How fay re y*/ mayde is for y e Bryde. / A lyttle puffed, may be, bye Pryde, / She yet soe lovely e is that I'd / A Shillynge give to tye, perdie, Her scuttle Hatt. / Y e Coales into y e Scuttle slide, / Soe in her Hatt wolde I, and hide / To steale some Kisses two or three ; / But synce She never asketh me, / Y e scornful Cynick doth deride / Her scuttle Hatt ! 1915 (m)Solo songHis Poisoned ShaftsBridgesRondeauHis poisoned shafts, that fresh he dips / In juice of plants that no bee sips, / He takes, and with his bow renown'd / Goes out upon his hunting ground, / Hanging his quiver at his hips. / He draws them one by one, and clips / Their heads between his finger-tips, / And looses with a twanging sound / His poisoned shafts. / But if a maiden with her lips / Suck from the wound the blood that drips, / And drink the poison from the wound, / The simple remedy is found / That of their deadly terror strips / His poisoned shafts. 1915 (m)Solo songO Mistress MineShakespeareO mistress mine, where are you roaming? / O stay and hear, your true love's coming / That can sing both high and low. // Trip no further, pretty sweeting; / Journeys end in lovers' meeting, / Ev'ry wise man's son doth know. // What is love? 'Tis not hereafter; / Present mirth hath present laughter; / What's to come is still unsure: // In delay there lies no plenty; / Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty; / Youth's a stuff will not endure.19161916 (ns)Sec. choralThe SkylarkHogg, JamesBird of the wilderness, / Blithesome and cumberless, / Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! / Emblem of happiness,Blest is thy dwelling-place / O to abide in the desert with thee! // Wild is thy lay and loud, / Far in the downy cloud, / Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. / Where, on thy dewy wing, / Where art thou journeying? / Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. // O'er fell and fountain sheen, / O'er moor and mountain green, / O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, / Over the cloudlet dim, / Over the rainbow's rim, / Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! // Then, when the gloaming comes, / Low in the heather blooms / Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!Emblem of happiness, / Blest is thy dwelling-place / O to abide in the desert with thee!19161923Sec. choralThe Tinker’s SongAnonymous (Old London Song from a 1667 CollectionHave you any work for a tinker, Mistress, / Old brass, old pots, old kettles? / I'll mend them all with a tink, merry tink, / And never hurt your metals; / First let me have but a touch of your ale, / ‘Twill steel me against cold weather, / Or Tinkers' frees, Or nintners' lees, / or tobacco chuse you whether. / But of your Ale, your nappy Ale, / I would I had a ferkin, / For I am old, and very cold, / and never wear a jerkin.19161919Solo songFour Songs, Op. 2202 – A Madrigal (“Before Me Careless Lying”)Dobson, Henry Austin1840-1921Before me, careless, lying,Young Love his wares came crying. / Full soon the elf untreasures / His pack of pains and pleasures; / With roguish eye,He bids me buy / From out his pack of treasures. // His wallet's stuffed with blisses, / With true-love knots and kisses, / With rings and rosy fetters, / And sugar'd vows and letters. / He holds them out / With boyish flout, / And bids me try the fetters. // "Nay, child," I cry, "I know them; / There's little need to shew them!Too well for new believing / I know their old deceiving, / I am too old," / I say, "and cold, / Today, for new believing"! // But still the wanton presses, / With honey-sweet caresses, / And still, to my undoing, / He wins me with his wooing, / To buy his wareWith all its care, / It's sorrow and undoing.19161919Solo songFour Songs, op. 2204 – Girl’s SongGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1916, FriendsI saw three black pigs ridingIn a blue and yellow cart;Three black pigs riding to the fairBehind the old grey dappled mare,But it wasn't black pigs ridingIn a gay and gaudy cartThat sent me into hidingWith a flutter in my heart.I heard the cart returning,The jolting jingling cart;Returning empty from from the fairBehind the old jogtrotting mareBut it wasn't the returning Of a clatt'ring empty cart,That sent the hot blood burningAnd throbbing thro' my heart.19171918Sec. choralA North Country SongAnon.Dance to your daddie, / My bonnie laddie;/ Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb; / You shall get a fishie, / On a little dishie; / You shall get a herring when the boat comes hame! // Dance to your daddie, / My bonnie laddie;/ Dance to your daddie / And to your mammie sing! / You shall get a coatie / And a pair of breekies, / You shall get a coatie when the boat comes hame!19171918Sec. choralA True StoryCampion, Thomas1917 1948 (ns)Sec. choralAn Old Man’s LullabyDekker, ThomasGolden slumbers kiss your eyes./Smiles awake you when you rise./Sleep pretty wantons, do not cry. /And I will sing a lullaby./Rock them, rock them lullaby. /Care is heavey, therefore sleep you. / You are care, and care must keep you. / Sleep, pretty . . . 19171928Chorus & orch.Sir Patrick Spens, op. 23Trad. Scottish BalladSee below1917 (sk)Solo song03 – Up On Their Brooms (The Ride-by-Nights)De la Mare, WalterUp on their brooms the Witches stream, / Crooked and black in the crescent's gleam; / One foot high, and one foot low, / Bearded, cloaked, and cowled, they go,'Neath Charlie's Wain they twitter and tweet, / And away they swarm 'neath the Dragon's feet,With a whoop and a flutter they swing and sway, / And surge pell-mell down the Milky Way. / Betwixt the legs of the glittering Chair / They hover and squeak in the empty air. / Then round they swoop past the glimmering LionTo where Sirius barks behind huge Orion; / Up, then, and over to wheel amain, / Under the silver, and home again.1917 (u)Solo songBy the Waters of Babylon, op. 17By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered thee, O Sion. / As for our harps, we hanged them up upon the trees that are therein. / For they that led us away captive required of us then a song, and melody, in our heaviness Sing us one of the songs of Sion. / How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? / If I forget thee, O Jerusalem let my right hand forget her cunning. / If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth yea if I prefer not Jerusalem in my mirth. / Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of Jerusalem how they said, Down with it, down with it, even to the ground. / O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery yea, happy shall he be that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us. / Blessed shall he be that taketh thy children and throweth them against the stones.1917 (u)Solo songHere She Lies, A Pretty BudHerrick, RobertHere she lies, a pretty bud, /Lately made of flesh and blood. /Who as soon fell fast asleep /As her little eyes did peep. /Give her strewing but not /Stir the light earth that covers her.1917 (u) Solo songUpon a Summer’s DayBaring, MauriceHe brought me silver, he brought me gold / I bade him go his way; /My heart was bought and my heart was sold / Upon a summer’s day. / He brought me horses and banners bold / I bade him go his way: / My heart was bought . . . For a sigh, a song, and a tale half-told,And for a wish of May, / My heart . . .1918(m)Solo songAs I Came Down by Pity MeGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, WhinAs I came down by Pity Me, Pity Me, Pity Me, / As I came down by Pity Me, / I heard a lassie sing : / “ I’d give the very heart of me / To have a golden ring.” / As I came down by Pity Me, / Pity Me, Pity Me, / As I came down by Pity Me / I heard a grey wife sing : / “ I’d give the very heart of me / To lose a golden ring.” 19181921Solo songBlawearyGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, WhinAs I came from Blaweary / I heard a young wife sing, / ‘Hush-a-low, Hush-a-low, / Hush-a-low my dearie. / Hush-a-low my pretty lamb, / Hush-a-low and sleep.’ / As I came from Blaweary . . . / Daddy’s in the lambing storm, / Tending to the sheep. / As I came from Blaweary . . . / Daddy’s coming home again / To find his lamb asleep, / Hush-a-low and sleep, / Hush-a-low and sleep.19181992Sacred choralHaec diesPsalm 118:24Haec Dies quam fecit Dominus: exultemus, etlaetumur in ea.(This is the day which the Lord has made: we willrejoice and be glad in it.)19181918Solo songMally O!Jacobean song (adapted)Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? / Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? / There we’ll get wine and brandy, / And sack and sugar-candy / Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? // Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? / Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? / Braw lads will march before ye, / And shall ye see their glory –Gin ye got to Flanders, my Mallo O? // Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally, O? / And see the bonny commanders, my Mally, O / You’ll see the bullets fly / And the soldiers how they die / And the ladies loudly laugh, my Mally O!19181920Solo songOld SkinflintGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, Whin‘TwixT Carrowbrough Edge and Settling-stones // See old daddy Skinflint dance in his bones, Old Skinflint on the gallows-tree, Old daddy Skinflint, the father of me. // “ Why do you dance, do you dance so high ? / Why do you dance in the windy sky ? / Why do you dance in your naked bones / ‘Twixt Carrowbrough Edge and Settli ngstones ? // Old daddy Skinflint, the father of me, / Why do you dance on the gallows-tree, Who never tripped on a dancing floor / Or flung your heels in a reel before ? // You taught me many a cunning thing / But never taught me to dance and sing, / Yet I must do whatever you do, / So when you dance I must dance too.” // ‘Twixt Carrowbrough Edge and Settlingstones / See old daddy Skinflint dance in his bones, / Old Skinflint on the gallows-tree / Old daddy Skinflint, the father of me. 1918Solo songOld SkinflintGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, Whin‘Twixt Carrowbrough Edge and Settlingstones / See old daddy Skinflint dance in his bones, / Old Skinflint on the gallows-tree, Old daddy Skinflint, the father of me. // “Why do you dance, do you dance so high? / Why do you dance in the windy sky? / Why do you dance in your naked bones / ‘Twixt Carrowbrough Edge and Settlingstones? // Old daddy Skinflint, the father of me, / Why do you dance on the gallows-tree, Who never tripped on a dancing floor / Or flung your heels in a reel before? // You taught me many a cunning thing / But never taught me to dance and sing, / Yet I must do whatever you do, / So when you dance I must dance too.” // ‘Twixt Carrowbrough Edge and Settlingstones / See old daddy Skinflint dance in his bones, / Old Skinflint on the gallows-tree / Old daddy / Skinflint, the father of me.1918(m)Solo songStow-on-the-WoldGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, WhinI met an old man at Stow-on-the-Wold, / Who shook and shivered as though with cold. // And he said to me : “ Six sons I had, / And each was a tall and a lively lad. // “But all of them went to France with the guns, / They went together, my six tall sons. // “ Six sons I had, six sons I –had / And each was a tall and a lively lad.” 19181924Solo songThe Mugger’s SongGibson, W. W.1918, WhinDriving up the Mallerstang / The mugger cracked his whip and sang / And all his crocks went rattle, rattle - / "The road runs fair and smooth and even / From Appleby to Kirkby Stephen / And womenfolk are kittle cattle. // And Kirkby Stephen's fair to see / And inns are good in Appleby," / And all his crocks went rattle, rattle. / "But what care I for Kirkby Stephen, / Or whether roads are rough or even,And womenfolk are kittle cattle? // And what care I for Appleby, Since Bess of the Blue Bell jilted me?" / And all his crocks went rattle, rattle - / "And wed today in Kirkby Stephen, / A sweep whose legs are odd and even? / And womenfolk are kittle cattle."19181920Solo songThe Restful BranchesByrne, W.A.It grows beside the lonely road,Its voice is like a summer stream.The winds would make it their abode / If they could sleep like us and dream. / It sings of holy quietude, / And birds along its branches brood. / No heart can taste its larger dews; / No eye can drink its deeper rest / But him whom sorrow’s strength / Would use to gather to her thorny breast:For him the song, the solitude;Its peace shall be his dearest food.19181920Solo songFour French Chansons, op. 2901 – Sainte CatherineAnon. , Tr. Edward AgateCatherine était fille, la fille d’un grand roi. / Sa mere était chrétienne, son pèr’ ne l’était pas.Ave Maria, sancta Catharina.Un jour dans ses priers,Seulette il l’a trouva;“Que faites-vous, ma fille,Que faites-vous donc la!”Ave Maria . . .“J’adore Dieu mon père,Que vous n’adorez pas.”“Cessez, cessez, ma fille,D’adorer ce Dieu là.”Ave Maria . . .“Plut?t mourir, mon pèreQue d’adorer Juda.”“Apportez-moi mon sabreEt mon grand coutelas.”Ave Maria . . .Ne coupait pas le sabre.Le couteau se cassa.Il fit faire une scie.La scie ne scia pas.Ave Maria . . .Il fit faire une roué.La roué ne roua pas,Courag’ Sainte CatharineLe paradis auras.Ave Maria . . .Avec ta sainte mereAu Paradis seras.Et ton malheureux pèreEn enfer br?lera.Ave Maria . . .19181920Solo songFour French Chansons, op. 2902 – Le Marquis de Maine (C’est le grand duc de Maine)Anon., Tr. Edward AgateC’est le grand duc du Main’, / La brigue dondaine, / A Montauban / La brigue dondé. / Blessé par une flech’ / La brigue dondaine. / Dont il fut transpercé, / La brigue dondé. / Transporté sous un chène, / La brigue dondaine, / Sous un chène renversé, / La brigue dondé / Il demand un plum’ / La brigue dondaine, / De l’encre et du papier, / La brigue dondé. / De l’encre et du papier / pour écrire à son ma?t’ / La brigue dondaine. / Son roi, son allié. / La brigue dondé / Sur’, je suis bien malad’, / La brigue dondaine. / Je crois bien que j’en mourrai, / La brigue dondé. / Quand le roi lut sa ag’, / La brigue dondaine / Se mit à pleurer, / La brigue dondé19181920Solo songFour French Chansons, op. 2903 – Le Petit CouturierAnon. (?), Tr. Edward AgateVoulez-vous savoir l’histoire d’un petit couturier, (bis) / Qui s’en va voir les filles bien tard après souper?? / Ri tinton, tinton la lirette, / Ri tinton, tinton la ago.Qui s’en va voir les filles bien tard après souper, (bis) / Il n’a trouvé agon’ que la mere a l’hoté. / Ri tin ton . . .Sourdez, sourdez mon gas, courdez à vous chauffer. / Ce n’est point votre feu qui nous amène il lec.” / Ri tin ton . . .“C’est votre fill’ a?née. Voul’-vous nous la bailer?” / “Ma fille n’est point fait pour un gas couturier.” / Ri tin ton . . . / “Elle est bien plut?t fait pour le gas d’un fermier, / Qu’a des vaches à l’étable et du cidre en collier.”Ri tin ton . . . / Le couturier s’en va maudissant son métier, / “Sans ma maudite aiguilles, je me s’rais marié.” / Ri tin ton . . . / “A la joli’ fill’ du bourg du Guéméné / Qui a les cheveux d’or et les sourcils dorés.” / Ri tin ton . . .19181920Solo songFour French Chansons, op. 2904 – Angèle au CouventAnon., Tr. Edward AgateM’étant endormie / Dans une prairie, / J’entendis Jésus / Qui disait en musique : / Réveille-toi, ma fille, / Va-t’en au couvent. // Est-ce aux Carmélites / Ou à Sainte Marie / Que je suis appelé. / C’est n’est ni aux Carmélites / Ni à Sainte Marie, / C’est au grand Saint Fran?ois. // Etant à la porte, / Promptement je sonne / Et prie humblement / D’ouvrir le saint asile / A une postulante / Charitablement. // Doucement, ma fille, / On n’entre pas si vite / Dans notre couvent, / Notre vie est . . . / Peut-être trop sévère / Point d’empressement. // Vous êtes bien jeune / Pour être religieuse, / N’avez pas quinze ans, / Faut en avoir dix-huite, / Croyez-moi, ma fille, / Attendez trois ans. // C’est vrai, je suis jeune, / Mais je suis courageuse / Véritablement; / Ah ! ma bonne dame, / N’attristez pas ma pauvre ?me / Par retardement! // Dans le monastère / Les s?urs me menèrent / Au “noviciel,” / Où la sainte ma?tresse / Me fit mainte caresse / Et mille agréments. // Approchez, fillette, / Découvrez vot’ tête / Coupons ces cheveux; / Qui ne sont que terre, / Terre, terre, terre.” / “Mere, oui, je le veux; // Je ne sais pas lire / Mais je m’en vais dire / Un : De Profundis, / Pour que Dieu me donne / Sa sainte couronne / Dans son grand paradis !19181918Sacred choralThree Carol-Anthems.Marks HH’s break from Early music choral style.Here is the Little DoorFrances ChestertonHere is the little door, lift up the latch, oh lift! We need not wander more, but enter with our gift; Our gift of finest gold. Gold that was never bought or sold; / Myrrh to be strewn about his bed; / Incense in clouds about His head; / All for the child that stirs not in His sleep, / But holy slumber hold with ass and sheep. // Bend low about His bed, / For each He has a gift; / See how His eyes awake, / Lift up your hands, O lift! / For gold, He gives a keen-edged sword. / (Defend with it thy little Lord!) / For incense, smoke of battle red, / Myrrh for the honored happy dead; / Gifts for His children, terrible and sweet; / Touched by such tiny hands, / and Oh such tiny feet.1918 (m)Solo songFallowfield FellGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, WhinSoldier, what do you see, / Lying so cold and still? / Fallowfield Fell at dawn, / And heather upon the hill. // Soldier, what do you see, / Lying so still and cold ? / Fallowfield Fell at noon, / And the whin like burning gold. // Soldier, what do you see, / Lying so cold and still ? / Fallowfield Fell at night, / And the stars above the hill. 1919 (m)Solo songAmong the TombsNewbolt, Sir Henry (1862-1938)She is a lady fair and wise, / Her heart her counsel keeps, / And well she knows of time that flies / And tide that onward sweeps; / But still she sits with restless eyesWhere Memory sleeps / Where Memory sleeps. // Ye that have heard the whispering dead / In every wind that creeps, / Or felt the stir that strains the lead / Beneath the mounded heaps, / Tread softly, ah! More softly tread / Where Memory sleeps.19191927Solo songGavotteNewbolt, Sir Henry (1862-1938)1898, The Island RaceMemories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, / No more dumb; / Delicate phantoms softly creeping / Softly back from the old-world come. // Faintest odours around them straying, / Suddenly straying / In chambers dim; / Whispering silks in order swaying, / Glimmering gems on shoulders slim: // Courage advancing strong and tender, / Grace untender / Fanning desire;Suppliant conquest, proud surrender, / Courtesy cold of hearts on fire - // Willowy billowy now they’re bending, / Low they’re bending / Down-dropt eyes; / Stately measure and stately ending, / Music sobbing, and a dream that dies.19191923Solo songKing DavidDe la Mare, Walter (1873-1956)1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesKing David was a sorrowful man:No cause for his sorrow had he;And he called for the music of a hundred harps, / To ease his melancholy. // They played till they all fell silent: / Played and play sweet did they; / But the sorrow that haunted the heart of King David / They could not charm away. // He rose; and in his garden / Walked by the moon alone, / A nightingale hidden in a cypress tree, / Jargoned on and on. // King David lifted his sad eyes / Into the dark-boughed tree / “Tell me, thou little bird that singest, / Who taught my grief to thee?” // But the bird in no-wise heeded; / And the king in the cool of the moon / Hearkened to the nightingale’s sorrowfulness, / Till all his own was gone.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)01 – WanderersDe la Mare, WalterPeacock PieWide are the meadows of night, / And daisies are shining there, / Tossing their lovely dews, / Lustrous and fair; / And through these sweet fields go, / Wand’rers ‘mid the stars – / Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune, / Saturn, Jupiter and Mars. / ‘Tired in their silver, they move. / And circling, whisper and say, / Fair are the blossoming meads of delight / Through which we stray.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)02 – The Lady Caroline (Lovelocks)De la Mare, WalterI watched the Lady CarolineBind up her dark and beauteous hair; / Her face was rosy in the glass, / And ‘twixt the coils her hand would pass, / White in the candleshine. // Her bottles on the table lay, / Stoppered, yet sweet of violet; Her image in the mirror stooped / To view those locks as lightly looped / As cherry-boughs in May. // The snowy night lay dim without, / I heard the Waits their sweet song sing; / The window smouldered keen with frost; / Yet still she twisted, sleeked and tossed / Her beauteous hair about.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)03 – Before Dawn (2 versions) De la Mare, WalterDim-berried is the mistletoe / With globes of sheenless grey, / The holly mid ten thousand thorns / Smoulders its fires away; / And in the manger Jesus sleeps / This Christmas Day. // Bull unto bull with hollow throat / Makes echo every hill, / Cold sheep in pastures thick with snow / The air with bleating fill; / While of his mother’s heart this Babe / Takes His sweet will. // All flowers and butterflies lie hid, / The blackbird and the thrush / Pipe but a little as they flit / Restless from bush to bush / Even to the robin Gabriel hath / Cried softly “Hush!” // Now night’s astir with burning stars / In darkness of the snow; / Burdened with frankincense and myrrh / And gold the Strangers goInto a dusk where one dim lampBurns softly, lo! // No snowdrop yet its small head nods / In winds of winter drear; / No lark at casement in the sky / Sings matins shrill and clear; / Yet in this frozen mirk the DawnBreathes, Spring is here!19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)04 – The Old Stone HouseDe la Mare, WalterNothing on the grey roof, nothing on the brown, / Only a little greening where the rain drips down; / Nobody at the window, nobody at the door, / Only a little hollow which a foot once wore;But still I tread on tiptoe, still tiptoe on I go, / Past nettles, porch, and weedy well, for oh, I know / A friendless face is peering, and a still clear eyePeeps closely through the casementas my step goes by.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)05 – The Three Cherry Trees (Siciliana)De la Mare, Walter1912, The Listeners and Other PoemsThere were three cherry trees once, / Grew in a garden all shady; / And there for delight of so gladsome a sight, / Walked a most beautiful lady, Dreamed a most beautiful lady. // Birds in those branches did sing, / Blackbird and throstle and linnet,But she walking there was by far the most fair -- / Lovelier than all else within it, / Blackbird and throstle and linnet. // But blossoms to berries do come, All hanging on stalks light and slender, / And one long summer’s day charmed that lady away, With vows sweet and merry and tender; / A lover with voice low and tender. // Moss and lichen the green branches deck; Weeds nod in its paths green and shady: / Yet a light footstep seems there to wander in dreams, The ghost of that beautiful lady, That happy and beautiful lady.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)06 – The Old SoldierDe la Mare, WalterThere came an Old Soldier to my door, / Asked a crust, and asked no more; / The wars had thinned him very bare, / Fighting and marching everywhere, / With a Fol rol dol rol di do. // With nose stuck out, and cheek sunk in,A bristling beard upon his chin –Powder and bullets and wounds and drums / Had come to that Soldier as suchlike comes –With a Fol rol dol rol di do. // ‘Twas sweet and fresh with buds of May, / Flowers springing from every spray; / And when he had supped the Old Soldier trolledThe song of youth that never grows old, / Called Fol rol dol rol di do. // Most of him rags, and all of him lean, / And the belt round his belly drawn tightsome inHe lifted his peaked old grizzled head, / And these were the very same words he said-A Fol-rol-dol-rol-di-do.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)07 – The song of the secret, De la Mare, Walter1913, Peacock PieWhere is beauty? / Gone, gone:The cold winds have taken it / With their faint moan; / The white stars have shaken it, / Trembling down, / Into the pathless deeps of the sea. / Gone, gone / Is beauty from me. // The clear naked flower / Is faded and dead; / The green-leafed willow, / Drooping her head, / Whispers low to the shade / Of her boughs in the stream, / Sighing a beauty, / Secret as dream.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)08 – Some OneDe la Mare, WalterSome one came knocking / At my wee, small door; / Some one came knocking, / I’m sure – sure – sure;I listened, I opened, / I looked to left and right, / But naught there was a-stirring / In the still dark night; / Only the busy beetle / Tap-tapping in the wall, / Only from the forest / The screech-owl’s call, / Only the cricket whistling / While the dewdrops fall, / So I know not who came knocking, / At all, at all, at all.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)09 – A Queer StoryDe la Mare, WalterThree jolly Farmers / Once bet a pound / Each dance the others would / Off the ground. // Out of their coats / They slipped right soon, / And neat and nicesome / Put each his shoon. // One – Two – Three! / And away they go,Not too fast, / And not too slow; // Out from the elm-tree’s Noonday shadow, / Into the sunAnd across the meadow. // Past the schoolroom, / With knees well bent, / Fingers a flicking, / They dancing went. // Up sides and over, / And round and round, / They crossed click-clacking / The Parish bound; // By Tupman’s meadow / They did their mile,Tee-to-tum / On a three-barred stile. // Then straight through Whipham, / Downhill to Week,Footing it lightsome, / But not too quick, / Up fields to WatchetAnd on through Wye,Till seven fine churchesThey’d seen slip by -- // Seven fine churches, / And five old mills, / Farms in the valley,And sheep on the hills; // Old Man’s Acre / And Dead Man’s Pool / All left behind,As they danced through Wool.// And Wool gone by, / Like tops that seem / To spin in sleep / They danced in dream: // Withy – Wellover -- / Wassop – Wo –Like an old clock / Their heels did go. // A league and a leagueAnd a league they went, / And not one weary, / And not one spent.// And log, and behold! / Past Willow-cum-Leigh / Stretched with its waters / The great green sea. // Says Farmer Bates, / “I puffs and I blows, / What’s under the water, / Why, no man knows!”// Says Farmer Giles, / “My mind comes weak, / And a good man drownded / Is far to seek.”// But Farmer Turvey, / On twirling toes, / Up’s with his gaiters, / And in he goes:// Down where the mermaids / Pluck and play / On their twangling harps / In a sea-green day; // Down where the mermaidsFinned and fair, / Sleek with their combs / Their yellow hair. . . . //Bates and Giles --/ On the shingle sat, / Gazing at Turvey’s / Floating hat. // But never a rippleNor bubble told / Where he was supping / Off plates of gold. // Never an echo / Rilled through the sea / Of the feasting and dancing And minstrelsy.// They called – called – called; / Came no reply: / Nought but the ripples’ / Sandy sigh. // Then glum and silent / They sat instead, / Vacantly brooding / On home and bed, // Till both together stood up and said: -- / “Us knows not, dreams not, / Where you be, Turvey, / unless in the deep blue sea; // But axcusing silver -- / And it comes most willing -- / Here’s us two paying / our forty shilling; // For it’s sartin sure, Turvey, / Safe and sound, / You danced us a square, Turvey, / Off the ground.”19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)10 – Andy BattleDe la Mare, Walter1910, The Three Mulla-MulgarsOnce and there was a young sailor, yeo ho! / And he sailed out over the say / For the isles where pink coral and palm branches blow, / And the fire-flies turn night into day, / Yeo ho!And the fire-flies turn night into day. // But the Dolphin went down in a tempest, yeo ho! / And with three forsook sailors ashore,The portingales took him wh’ere sugar-canes grow, / Their slave for to be evermore, / Yeo ho!Their slave for to be evermore. // With his musket for mother and brother, yeo ho! / He warred with the Cannibals drear, / in forests where panthers pad soft to and fro, / And the Pongo shakes noonday with fear, / Yeo ho!And the Pongo shakes noonday with fear. // Now lean with long travail, all wasted with woe, / With a monkey for messmate and friend, / He sits ‘neath the Cross in the cankering snow, / And waites for his sorrowful end,Yeo ho! / And waits for his sorrowful end.19191995Solo songA Garland for de la Mare (sketched & revised by Howells from 1919-1973; pub’d posthumously)11 – The Old HouseDe la Mare, WalterA very, very old house I know –And ever so many people go,Past the small lodge, forlorn and still, / Under the heavy branches, till / Comes the blank wall, and there’s the door. / Go in they do; come out no more. / No voice says aught; no spark of lightAcross that threshold cheers the sight; / Only the evening star on high / Less lonely makes a lonely sky. / As, one by one, the people go / Into that very old house I know.19191920Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis in G19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]01 – Tired TimDe la Mare, Walter (1873-1956)1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesPoor Tired Tim! It’s sad for him.He lags the long bright morning through, / Ever so tired of nothing to do; / He moons and mopes the livelong day, / Nothing to think about, nothing to say; / Up to bed with his candle to creep, / Too tired to yawn, too tired to sleep: / Poor Tired Tim! It’s sad for him.19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]02 – Alas, Alack!De la Mare, Walter1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesAnn, Ann! Come quick as you can! / There’s a fish that talks in the frying pan! / Out of the fat, as clear as glass, / He put up his mouth and moaned, “Alas!” / Oh, most mournful ‘Alas, alack!’ / Then turned to his sizzling, and sank him back.19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]03 – Mrs. MacQueenDe la Mare, Walter1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesWith glass like a bull’s-eye, / And shutters of green, / Down on the cobbles / Lives Mrs. MacQueen, // At six she rises; / At nine you see / Her candle shine out / In the linden tree: // And at half-past nine / Not a sound is nigh / But the bright moon’s creeping / Across the sky; // Or a far dog baying; / Or a twittering bird / In its drowsy nest, / In the darkness stirred; // Or like the roar / Of a distant sea / A long-drawn S-s-shIn the linden tree.19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]04 – The DunceDe la Mare, Walter (1873-1956)1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesWhy does he still keep ticking? / Why does his round white face / Stare at me over the books and ink, / And mock at my disgrace? / Why does that thrush call, / ‘Dunce, dunce, dunce!’? / Why does that bluebottle buzz? / Why does the sun so silent shine? – / And what do I care if it does?19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]05 – Full MoonDe la Mare, Walter1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesOne night as Dick lay half asleep, / Into his drowsy eyes / A great still light begins to creep / From out the silent skies. / It was lovely moon’s, for when / He raised his dreamy head, / Her surge of silver filled the pane / And streamed across his bed. / So, for a while, each gazed at each – / Dick and the solemn moon – / Till, climbing slowly on her way, / She vanished, and was gone.19191923Solo songPeacock Pie, op. 33 [Set I]06 – Miss T.De la Mare, Walter (1873-1956)1913, Peacock Pie: A Book of RhymesIt’s a very odd thing / As odd as can be / That whatever Miss T. eats / Turns into Miss T.; / Porridge and apples, / Mince, muffins and mutton, / Jam, junket, jumbles -/ Not a rap, not a button / It matters; the momentThey’re out of her plate, / Though shared by Miss Butcher / And sour Mr. Bate; / Tiny and cheerful, /And neat as can be,Whatever Miss T. eats / Turns into Miss T.19191919Sacred choralThree Carol-Anthems.A Spotless Rose14th-c carolA Spotless Rose is growing, Sprung from a tender root, / Of ancient seers’ foreshowing, / Of Jesse promised fruit; / Its fairest bud unfolds to light / Amid the cold, cold winter, / And in the dark midnight. // The Rose which I am singing, / Whereof Isaiah said, / Is from its sweet root springing / In Mary, purest Maid; Through God’s great love and might / The Blessed Babe she bare us / In a cold, cold winter’s night.1919 (m)Solo songLong Ago to TheeRondel (Long Ago to Thee)Long ago to thee I gave / Body, soul, and all I have / Nothing in the world I keep: // All that in return I crave / Is that thou accept the slave / Long ago to thee I gave / Body, soul, and all I have. // Had I more to share or save, / I would give as give the brave, / Stooping not to part the heap; / Long ago to thee I gave / Body, soul, and all I have / Nothing in the world I keep.1919 (m)Old ShelloverDe la Mare, WalterPeacock Pie [Set II]'Come!' said Old Shellover. / 'What?' says Creep. / 'The horny old Gardener's fast asleep; / The fat cock Thrush / To his nest has gone; / And the dew shines brightIn the rising Moon; / Old Sallie Worm from her hole doth peep: / Come!' said Old Shellover. / 'Aye!' said Creep.1919 (m)The Ride-by-NightsDe la Mare, WalterPeacock Pie1919 (m)Solo SongThough I WanderNewbolt, Sir Henry (1862-1938)Rondel IThough I wander far-off ways,Dearest, never doubt thou me: // Mine is not the love that strays,Though I wander far-off ways: // Faithfully for all my days / I have vowed myself to thee: / Though I wander far-off ways, / Dearest, never doubt thou me1919 (sk)Solo songA Song of EnchantmentDe la Mare, WalterPeacock PieA Song of Enchantment I sang me there, / In a green –green wood, by waters fair, / Just as the words came up to me / I sang it under the wildwood tree. / Widdershins turned I, singing it low, / Watching the wild birds come and go; / No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen / Under the thick-thatched branches green.Twilight came; silence came;The planet of Evening’s silver flame; / By darkening paths I wandered through / Thickets trembling with drops of dew. / But the music is lost and the words are gone / Of the song I sang as I sat alone, / Ages and ages have fallen on me / On the wood and the pool and the elder tree.1919 (u)1927Solo songBy the Hearth-stoneNewbolt, HenryBy the hearth-stone / She sits alone / The long night bearing, /With eyes that gleam / Into the dream / Of the fireside staring. / Low and more low / The dying glow / Burns in the embers / She nothing heeds, / And nothing needs / Only remembers.19201920Sec. choralA Golden LullabyDekker, ThomasGolden slumbers kiss your eyes,Smiles awake you when you rise.Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,And I will sing a lullaby;/ Rock them, rock them, lullaby. / Care is heavy, therefore sleep you; / You are care, and care must keep you.Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,And I will sing a lullaby; / Rock them, rock them, lullaby.19201995Sacred choralBlessed are the DeadRev. 14:13 & possibly HowellsBlessed are the dead which die in the Lord. For theirs is the peace of God, they rest from their labours. Their joy is of the Holy Spirit and shall not be broken. For they shall come even unto Heav’n. For them was achieved the triumph of the Resurrection of the Son of God, that unto them it should be assured not death, but to rest awhile from their labours. And to inherit celestial light which is eternal for them that die in the Lord.19201921Solo songGoddess of NightHarvey, Frederick William (1888-1957)Calm with the calm of all old / earth has taken / To her peaceful breast / And will not waken,Pale with passion of Life that never dies; / You sit there watching us, / Watching us with clear bright eyes.19201923Solo songO My Deir HertWedderburn, James, John, and Robert (ca 1548)Based on a text by Martin Luther (1483-1546)O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit, / Prepare thy creddil in my spreit, / And I sall rock thee in my hert / And never mair from thee depart. // But I sall praise thee evermoir / With sangis sweit unto thy gloir; / The knees of my heart sall I bow, / And sing that richt Balulalow!19201920Solo songThe Little Boy LostBlake, William (1757-1827)1789, Songs of Innocence and Experience in Songs of Innocence, no. 8``Father! Father! Where are you going? / O do not walk so fast. Speak, father, speak to your little boy, / Or else I shall be lost.’’ // The night was dark, no father was there; / The child was wet with dew; / The mire was deep, & the child did weep, / And away the vapour flew.19201920Sacred choralThree Carol-Anthems.Sing LullabyHarvey, F.W.Sing lullaby, sing lullaby, While snow doth gently fall. Sing lullaby to Jesus Born in an oxen’s stall. Sing lullaby, sing lullaby. Sing lullaby to Jesus Born now in Bethlehem, The naked blackthorn’s growing To weave his diadem. Sing lullaby to Jesus. Sing lullaby, sing lullaby, While thickly snow doth fall. Sing lullaby to Jesus, The Saviour of all. Sing lullaby, sing lullaby.1920 (u)Solo songO Garlands, Hanging by the DoorsAnonymous (Greek poem) (Strettell)O Garlands, Hanging by the Door now stay, / Nor from your leaves too quickly shake away / My dew of tears! / How many such, ah me! / A lover’s eyes must shed. /But when the opening of these doors ye see, / Let slowly drop these tears, upon her head /That so her golden hair may drink deep / Those tears that I did weep.19221922 (ns)Sec. choralThe DuelField, EugeneThe gingham dog and the calico cat / Side by side on the table sat; / 'Twas half-past twelve and (what do you think!) / Nor one nor t'other had slept a wink! / The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plateAppeared to know as sure as fateThere was going to be a terrible spat. / (I wasn't there; I simply state / What was told to me by the Chinese plate!) / The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow!"And the calico cat replied "mee-ow!" / The air was littered, an hour or so, / With bits of gingham and calico, / While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place / Up with its hands before its face / For it always dreaded a family row! / (Now mind: I'm only telling youWhat the old Dutch clock / declares is true!) // The Chinese plate looked very blue, / And wailed, "Oh, dear! What shall we do!" / But the gingham dog and the calico cat / Wallowed this way and tumbled that, / Employing every tooth and claw / In the awfullest way you ever saw- / And, oh! How the gingham and calico flew! / (Don't fancy I exaggerate / I got my news from the Chinese plate!) / Next morning, where the two had satThey found no trace of dog or cat;And some folks think unto this day / That burglars stole that pair away! / But the truth about the cat and pup / Is this: They ate each other up! / Now what do you really think of that! / (The old Dutch clock it told me so, / And that is how I came to know.) 19221926Sec. choral (ns)The Wonderful Derby RamAnon.As I was going to Derby all on a market day, / I met the finest ram, sir, that ever was fed upon hay; / This ram was fat behind, sir, this ram was fat before; / This ram was ten yards round, sir; indeed he was no more; / The horns that grew on his head, sir, they were so wondrous high, / As I’ve been plainly told, sir, they reached up to the sky; / The tail that grew from his back, sir, was six yards and an ell; / And it was sent to Derby to toll the market bell19221922 (last 36 bars only)Chorus & orch.Sine Nomine19231923 (ns)Sec. choralAll In This Pleasant EveningAnon.All in this pleasant evening, / together come are we, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay. / We'll tell you of a blossom and buds on every tree,Drawing near to the merry month of May. // Rise up, the master of this house. Put on your chain of gold, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay. / We hope you're not offended, with your house we make so bold, / Drawing near to the merry month of May. // Rise up, the mistress of this house, with gold along your breast, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay. / And if your body be asleep, we hope your soul's at rest, / Drawing near to the merry month of May. // Rise up, the children of this / house, all in your rich attire, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay. / For every hair upon your head shines like the silver wire, / Drawing near to the merry month of May. // God bless this house and harbour, your riches and your store, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay. / We hope the Lord will prosper you, both now and evermore, / Drawing near to the merry month of May. // So now, we're going to leave you, in peace and plenty here, / For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay.We shall not sing you May again until another year, / For to draw you these cold winters away.19231924 (ns)Sec. choralCreep Afore Ye GangBallantine, JamesCreep awa', my bairnie, creep afore ye gang, / Cock ye baith your lugs to your auld Grannie's sang: / Gin ye gang as far ye will think the road lang, / Creep awa’, my bairnie, creep afore ye gang. // Creep awa', my bairnie, ye're ower young to learn / To tot up and down yet, my bonnie wee bairn; / Better creepin' cannie, than fa'in' wi' a bang, / Duntin' a' your wee brow,—creep afore ye gang. // Ye'll creep, an' ye'll hotch, an' ye'll nod to your mither,Watchin' ilka step o' your wee donsy brither; / Rest ye on the floor till your wee limbs grow strang, / An' ye'll be a braw chiel yet,—creep afore ye gang. // The wee birdie fa’s when it tries ower soon to flee, / Folks are sure to tumble, when they climb ower hie; / They wha canna walk right are sure to come to wrang,Creep awa’, my bairnie, creep afore ye gang.19231924Sacred choralLord Who Createdst ManHerbert, GeorgeLord, who createdst man in wealth and store, / Though foolishly he lost the same,Decaying more and more, / Til he became / Most poor; / With Thee / O let me rise / As larks, harmoniously, / And sing this day Thy victories; / Then shall the fall further the flight in me. / My tender age in sorrow did begin: / And still with sicknesses and shame / Thou didst so punish sin, / That I became / Most thin. / With Thee / Let me combine, / And feel this day Thy victory, / For if I imp my wing on Thine, / Affliction shall advance the flight in me.19231923Sacred choralMy Master Hath a GardenAnonymousBrougham’s “Corn From Olde Fieldes”My master hath a garden full-filled with divers flowers, where thou may’st gather posies gay, all times and hours. Here nought is heard But Paradise-bird, Thou my heart Thy garden-plot, true, fair and neat, That I may hear this music clear, Harp, dulcimer, and lute, With cymbal and timbrel, and the gentle sounding flute.19231928Solo songOld MegGibson, Wilfrid Wilson (1878-1962)1918, WhinThere’s never the taste of a cherry for me, / They’re out of my reach on the bough, / And it’s hard to be seeing them hang on the tree / And no man to hand me them now. / It’s hard to be travelling since Billy Boy died, / With the devil’s own crick in my back, With the gout in my knees and a stitch in my side / And no man to carry my pack. // It’s hard to be travelling the roads all alone, When cherries hang handy and ripe / And no man to find me a soft mossy stone, / And no man to kindle my pipe.19231923Sec. choralSpanish LullabyAnon.19231924 (ns)Sec. choralThe ShadowsO’Sullivan, SeamusO herdsman, driving your slow twilight flock / By darkening meadow and hedge and grassy rath, / The trees stand shuddering as you pass by, / The suddenly falling silence is your path. // Over my heart the shadows too are creeping, / But on my heart for ever they will lie. / O happy meadow and trees and raths and hedges, / The twilight and all its flock will pass you by.19241924Sec. choralBellsAnonymousTwo sticks and an apple, / Say the Bells at Whitechapel. / Old Father Baldpate, / Say the Bells of Aldgate. / Maids in white aprons, / Say the Bells of St. Cathrine’s, / You owe me ten shillings, / Say the Bells at St. Helen’s. / When will you pay me? Say the Bells of Old Bailey. / When I am rich, / Say the Bells of Shoreditch. / When will that be?Say the Bells of Stepney, / I do not know, / Says the great Bell at Bow.19241925Sacred choralBenedictus19241924 (ns)Sec. choralFirst in the GardenAnon.First in the garden is a raw / Of elder bushes fit to blaw, / A bed o' balm, and a bed o' mint, / A broken pot, and flowers in't. // A currant bush and a codlin tree, / A little rue and rosemarie; / A row or twa o' beans and peas, / A guinea-hen and a hive o' bees; / A mufty tufty bantam cock, / A garden gate without a lock; / A dial cut upon a stone, / A wooden bench to sit upon. / The house is neat, and pretty squat, / It's safer in the storm for that. / A looking window through the latch, / A broken door and a wooden catch; // And for the knocker there is a foot / Of poor dead Pompey tied to't, / So that they may remember him, / Whenever they go out and in.19241924Sec. choralHolly SongAnon.19241924Sec. choralIrish Wren Song19241925Sacred choralJubilate Deo19241924Sec. choralMother, MotherAnon.Buy me a milking pail, / Mother, mother. / Betsy’s gone a-milking, / Beautiful daughter. / Sell my father’s feather-bed, / mother, mother. / Where will your father lie, / Beautiful daughter? / Put him in the boys’ bed, / Mother, mother. / Where will the boys sleep, / Beautiful daughter? / Put them in the pig’s stye / Mother, mother. / Where will the pigs lie, / Beautiful daughter? / Put them in the salting-tub, / Mother, mother.19241924Sec. choralRobin Hood’s Song19241924Sec. choralSing IvyAnon.My father left me three acres of land, / Sing ivy, sing ivy;My father he left me three acres of land, / Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy! // I ploughed it with a ram's horn, / Sing ivy, sing ivy; / And sowed it all over with one peppercorn, // Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy! // I harrowed it with a bramble bush, / Sing ivy, sing ivy; // And reaped it with my little pen-knife, / Sing holly, go whistle, and ivy!19241924Sec. choralSinge Lully By, LullyAnon.My little sweete darling, my comfort and joy, / Singe lully by, lully by lully; / In beauty excelling the princes of Troye; / Now, sleepe child, oh sleepe thee, thy mother’s sweete boy, / The gods bless and keepe thee from cruel annoy, / thy father, sweete infant, from mother is gone, / And she in the woodes here, with thee left alone. / To thee, little infant, why do I make mone / Singe lully by, lully, / Sith thou canst not help me to sighe nor to grone?19241924Sec. choralSwedish May Song19241925Sacred choralTe Deum in E-flat (unison)19241925Sacred choralCommunion Service19241925Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis in E-flat – unison19251925 (ns)Sec. choralEight O’Clock the Postman’s KnockRossetti, ChristinaEight o'clock; / The postman's knock! / Five letters for Papa; / One for Lou, / And none for you, / And three for dear Mamma.19251925 (ns)Sec. choralMother Shake the Cherry TreeRossetti, ChristinaMother shake the cherry-tree, / Susan catch a cherry; / Oh how funny that will be, / Let's be merry! // One for brother, one for sister, / Two for mother more, / Six for father, hot and tired, / Knocking at the door.19251928Sacred choralMy Eyes for Beauty PineBridges, Robert (1844-1930)1890, The Shorter Poems of Robert BridgesMy eyes for beauty pine, My soul for Goddes grace : No other care nor hope is mine, To heaven I turn my face. // One agonor thence is shed / From all the stars above : / ‘Tis named when God’s name is said, / ‘Tis Love, ‘tis heavenly Love. // And every gentle heart, / That burns with true desire, / Is lit from eyes that mirror part / Of that celestial fire.19251925 (ns)Sec. choralThe Days are ClearRossetti, ChristinaThe days are clear, / Day after day, / When April's here, / That leads to May, / And June / Must follow soon: / Stay, June, stay! / If only we could stop the moon / And June!19251927Sacred choralWhen First Thine Eies UnveilVaughan, Henry (1621-1695)ConsecrationWhen first thine eies unveil, give thy soul leave / To do the like; our bodies but forerun / The spirit’s duty. True hearts spread and heave / Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun. / Give Him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep / His company all day, and in Him sleep.[Yet never sleep the sun up. Prayer should / Dawn with the day. There are set awful hours / ‘Twixt Heaven and us. The manna was not good / After sun-rising; far-day sullies flowres. / Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut, / And Heaven’s gate opens when this world’s is shut. / Walk with thy fellow-creatures: note the hush / And whispers amongst them. / There ‘s not a spring / Or leafe but hath his morning hymn. Each bush / And oak doth know I AM. Canst thou not sing? / O leave thy cares and follies! Go this way, / And thou art sure to prosper all the day. / Serve God before the world; let Him not go / Until thou hast a blessing; then resigne / The whole unto Him ; and remember who / Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine. / Poure oyle upon the stones ; weep for thy sin; / Then journey on, and have an eie to Heav’n. / Mornings are mysteries; the first world’s youth, / Man’s resurrection, and the future’s bud / Shrowd in their births: the crown of life, light, truth, / Is stiled their starre, the stone, and hidden food. / Three blessings wait upon them, two of which / Should move: they make us holy, happy, rich. / When the world ‘s up, and ev’ry swarm abroad, / Keep thou thy temper; mix not with each clay; / Dispatch necessities; life hath a load / Which must be carried on, and safely may. / Yet keep those cares without thee, let the heart / Be God’s alone, and choose the better part. 19251925Kikirikee, Three Children’s SongsEight O’clock, the Postman’s KnockRossetti, Christina Georgina1872, Sing-song: A Nursery Rhyme BookEight o’clock;The postman’s knock!Five letters for Papa; One for Lou, And none for you,And three for dear Mamma.19251925Kikirikee, Three Children’s SongsMother Shake the Cherry-TreeRossetti, Christina (1830-1894)1872, Sing-song: A Nursery Rhyme BookMother shake the cherry-tree, Susan catch a cherry;Oh how funny that will be, Let’s be merry!One for brother, one for sister, Two for mother more,Six for father, hot and tired, Knocking at the door.19251925Kikirikee, Three Children’s SongsThe Days are ClearRossetti, Christina Georgina1872, Sing-song: A Nursery Rhyme BookThe days are clear, Day after day,When April’s here, That leads to May,And JuneMust follow soon: Stay, June, stay! –If only we could stop the moonAnd June!1926 (u)Chorus & orch.The Trial of JesusJohn MasefieldThe Trial of Jesus19271927Solo songCome Sing and DanceAnon.From far the Angels draw nearEia, Eia, / Sweet is the Day / Spring that heals our fear; / Come sing and dance / Come pipe and play / Alleluia / Sing Jesus and Mary dear. / A child this day to us is born / Eia, Eia, / Sing all ye shepherds proclaim the morn.Now all mankind doth say and sing / Eia, Eia, / This is the day of Christ and King.19271928Sec. choralThe Saylor’s SongAnon.We Seamen are the bonny boys / That fear no storms nor rocks-a / Whose music is the Cannon's noise / Whose sporting is with knocks-a. / 'Tis brave to see a ship to sail / With all her trim gear on-a / As though the Devil were at her tail / She with the wind will run-a. / Come let us reckon what ships are ours / The Gorgon, and the Dragon ; / The Lion which in fight is bold / The Bull with blood-red flagon / The Bear, the Dog, the Fox, the Kite; / That stuck fast to the Rover, / They chased the Turk in a day and night / From Scanderoon to Dover. / A health to brave sea-soldiers all, / Let cans a-piece go round-a ; / Pell-mell let's to the battle fall / And lofty music sound-a. 19271928 (ns)Sec. choralTune Thy MusicCampion, ThomasTune thy Music to thy heart, / Sing thy joy with thanks, and so thy sorrow: / Though Devotion needs not Art, / Sometimes of the poor the rich may borrow. // Strive not yet for curious ways : / Concord pleaseth more, the less 'tis strained; / Zeal affects not outward praise, / Only strives to show a love unfeined. // Love can wondrous things affect, / Sweetest Sacrifice, all wrath appeasing ; / Love the highest doth respect ;Love alone to him is ever pleasing.19281929 (ns)Sec. choralGood CounselChaucerFlee from the press, and dwell / with soothfastness; / Suffice thee thy good, though it be small; / For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness, / Press hath envy, and weal is blent o'er all, / Savour no more than thee behove shall; / Read well thyself, that other folk canst read; / And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread. // Paine thee not each crooked to redress, / In trust of her that turneth as a ball; / Great rest standeth in little business: / Beware also to spurn against a nail; / Strive not as doth a crocke with a wall; / Deeme thyself that deemest others' deed, / And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread. // What thee is sent, receive in buxomness; / The wrestling of this world asketh a fall; / Here is no home, here is but wilderness. / Forth, pilgrim! Forthe beast, out of thy stall! / Look up on high, and thank thy God of all! / Weive thy lust, and let thy ghost thee lead, / And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread.19281928Solo songIn Green Ways, op. 43 01 – Under the Greenwood TreeShakespeare, WilliamAs You Like It, Act II, Scene 5Under the greenwood tree / Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note / Unto the sweet bird’s throat, / Come hither, come / hither, come hither: / Here shall he see / No enemy / But winter and rough weather. // Who doth ambition shun, / And loves to live i’ the sun, / Seeking the food he eats, / And pleas’d with what he gets, / Come hither, come hither, come hither: / Here shall he seeNo enemy / But winter and rough weather. // If it do come to pass / That any man turn ass, / Leaving his wealth and ease, / A stubborn will to please, / Ducdame, / ducdame, ducdame: / Here shall he see / Gross fools as he, / An if he will come to me. / Under the greenwood tree / Who loves to lie with me.19281928Solo songIn Green Ways, op. 4303 -- Merry Margaret (Orig: “To Mistress Margaret Hussey”)Skelton, John (1460-1529)Merry Margaret / As midsummer flower, / Gentle as falcon / Or hawk of the tower: / With solace and gladness, / Much mirth and no madness, / All good and no badness; / So joyously, / So maidenly, / So womanly / Her demeaning / In every thing, / Far, far passing / That I can indite, / Or suffice to write / Of Merry Margaret / As midsummer flower, / Gentle as falcon / Or hawk of the tower. / As patient and still / And as full of good will / As fair Isaphill, / Coliander, / Sweet pomander, / Good Cassander; / Steadfast of thought, / Well made, well wrought, / Far may be sought, / Ere that ye can find / So courteous, so kind / As merry Margaret, / This midsummer flower, / Gentle as falcon / Or hawk of the tower.19281928Solo songIn Green Ways, op. 4304 – Wanderer’s Night SongGoethe (tran Howells)Over all the hill-tops is peace.And through the darkened trees there blows / Scarcely a breeze.O’er all the hill-tops is peace, / The birds are silent in the branches. / Wait a-while, / Soon though shalt rest too.19281928Solo songIn Green Ways, op. 4305 – On the Merry First of MayParker, H. Burkitt and Claude AvelingOn the merry First of May / Maidens wash their faces; / Wash them in the dew, they say, / On the merry First of May, / Once a year at break of day / So, at least, in places / On the merry First of May / Maidens wash their faces. / On the merry First of May, / Maidens all, beware you! / Man is full of guile, they say, / On the merry First of May; / Vain are all your arts today, / He it is will snare you, / On the merry First of May, / Maidens all, beware you!19291928Solo songIn Green Ways, op. 4302 – The Goat PathsStephen, James (1882-1950)1915, Songs from the ClayThe crooked paths go every way Upon the hill – they wind about Through the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness. / And there the goats, day after day, Stray in sunny quietness. Cropping here and cropping there, As they pause and turn and pass. Now a bit of heather spray, Now a mouthful of the grass. In the deeper sunniness, In the place where nothing stirs. // Quietly in quietness. / In the quiet of the furze. / For a time they come and lie / Staring on the roving sky. / If you approach they run away. / They leap and stare, away they bound. / With a sudden angry sound, / To the sunny quietude ; / Crouching down where nothing stirs / In the silence of the furze, / Couching down again to brood / In the sunny solitude. // If I were as wise as they / I would stray apart and brood, / I would beat a hidden way / Through the quiet heather spray / To a sunny solitude; / And should you come I’d run away, / I would make an angry sound, / I would stare and turn and bound / To the deeper quietude. / To the place where nothing stirs / In the silence of the furze. // In that airy quietness / I would think as long as they ; / Through the quiet sunniness / I would stray away to brood / By a hidden beaten way / In a sunny solitude. / I would think until I found / Something I can never find, / Something lying on the ground, / In the bottom of my mind.1929 (u)Solo songTwo Afrikaans SongsEensamheid (Loneliness)Celliers, F. E.My little fire and I / Only my little fire and I; / The evening star is winking from afar / And the fields around are sleeping. / My little fire is all that’s still alive / In the endless space with me. / The sleeping fields lay wide. / What my little fire and I see tonight / Is joy and woe.1929 (u)Solo songTwo Afrikaans SongsVrijheidsgees (Spirit of Freedom)Celliers, F. E.Hither to me, / I will lead you /Over the fields and the seas, /Come now. / Mine is that high spirited mind / That needs not /Worldly honour and glory /To be free. / Mine the eye full of daring and glory / Mine the heart full of power / That fears only God.Hither to me, / I will lead you /Over the fields and the seas! /To the North / I will lead you.19311951 (rev.)Chorus & orch.A Maid PeerlessAnonymousMedievalA Maid peerless hath borne God’s Son. / Nature gave place when ghostly grace / Subdued reason.A Maid peerless hath borne God’s Son. / Alleluia. / As for beauty, / Or high gentry, / She is the flower / By God elect, / For this effect, / Man to agon. / Of Virgins Queen, / Lodestar of Light, / Whom to honour / We ought agonor, / Day and night: / A Maid peerless hath borne God’s son. / Alleluia.19311932 (ns)Sec. choralDelicates so DaintyArnold, Edward19311931 (ns) Solo songSweet ContentGreene, R.Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content; / The quiet mind is richer than a crown; / Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent; / The poor estate scorns fortune’s angry frown: / Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, / Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss. // The homely house that harbours quiet rest; / The cottage that affords no pride nor care; / The mean that ‘grees with country music best;The sweet consort of mirth and music’s fare; / Obscured life sets down a type of bliss:/ A mind content both crown and kingdom is.19311995Solo songThree FolksongsI Will Give My Love an AppleI will give my love an apple / ithout e’er a core, / I will give my love a house without e’er a door, / I will give my love a palace / herein she may be, / And she may unlock it without any key. // My head is the apple without e’er a core, / My mind is the house / without e’er a door, / My heart is the palace wherein she may be, / And she may unlock it without any key.19311995Solo songThree FolksongsThe Brisk Young WidowIn Chester town there lived a / brisk young widow / For beauty and fine clothes none could excel her / She was proper, stout and tall, her fingers long and small / She’s a comely dame withal / she’s a brisk young widow // A lover soon there came, a brisk young farmer / With his hat turned up all round, thinking to gain her / Saying, “Madam, ‘tis for you, this wide world I’ll go through / If you will but prove true, you shall wed a farmer” // She says, “I’m not for you in your country britches / I am for a lively lad that have got riches. / It’s not your hogs and ewes can maintain furbelows / My silk and satin clothes are all me glory.” // “Oh, madam, don’t be coy in all your glory / For fear of another day and another story. / If the world on you should frown, your / topknot must come down / To a linsey-woolsey gown, where is then your glory?” // At last there came that way a sooty collier / With his hat bent down all round he soon did gain her // Though how the farmer swore, “No, widow’s ‘mazed I’m sure / And I’ll never court no more a brisk young widow.”1931 (u)1995Solo songThree FolksongsCendrillonJe suis modeste et soumise; / Le monde me voit fort peu , / Car je suis toujours assise / Dans le petit coin du feu. / Cette place n’est pas belle, / Mais pour moi tout para?t bon; / Voilà pourquoi l’on m’appelle / La petite Cendrillon. // Mes s?urs du soin du ménage, / Ne s’occupent pas du tout. / C’est moi qui fais tout l’ouvrage / Et pourtant j’en viens à bout. / Attentive, obéissante. / Je sers toute la maison ; / Et je suis votre servante, / La petite Cendrilion./ ? Quoique toujours je m’empresse. / Mon zèle est très mal payé; / Et jamais on ne m’adresse / Un petit mot d’amitié. / Mais, n’importe, on a beau faire, / Je me tais, et j’ai raison. / Dieu protégera , j’espère. / La petite Cendrilion. ?19321981Sacred choralRequiem19331933 (ns)Sec. choralBunches of GrapesDe la Mare, Walter1902, Songs of Childhood“Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy; / “Pomegranates pink,” says Elaine; / “A junket of cream and a cranberry tart / For me,” says Jane. // “Love-in-a-mist,” says Timothy; / “Primroses pale,” says Elaine; / “A nosegay of pinks and mignonette / For me,” says Jane. // “Chariots of gold,” says Timothy; / “Silvery wings,” says Elaine; / “A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay / For me,” says Jane.19331933Sacred choralO Salutaris HostiaO salutaris Hostia, / Quae caeli pandis ostium: / Bella premunt hostilia, / Da robur, fer auxilium. / Uni trinoque Domino / Sit sempiterna agon, / Qui vitam sine termino / Nobis donet in patria. Amen.O saving Victim, opening wide / The gate of Heaven to man below; / Our foes press hard on every side; / Thine aid supply; Thy strength bestow. / All praise and thanks to thee ascend, / For ever more, blest one in three. / O grant us life that shall not end, / In our true native land with thee.19331933Sec. choralTo Music BentCampion, ThomasTo Music bent is my retired mind / And fain would I some song of pleasure sing; / But in vain joy no comfort now I find / From heav'nly thoughts all true delight doth spring. / Thy power, O God, thy mercies, to record, / Will sweeten ev'ry note and ev'ry word. / All earthly pomp or beauty to express, / Is but to carve in snow, on waves to write. / Celestial things, though men conceive them less, / Yet fullest are they in themselves of light: / Such beams they yield as know no means to die, / Such heat they cast as lifts the Spirit high.19331933Chorus & orch.A Kent Yeoman’s Wooing Song01 – LentoVautor, Thomas1600 (ca)–‘Mother I will Have a Husband’ – RépertoireCollignon, (collection of arrangements ofBritish and French popular songs commissioned by the publisher J. & W. Chesterfor the soprano Raymonde Collignon.) (So supposes Andrew Green 1999 Chandos 9744, Hymnus Paradisi & A Kent Yeoman’s Wooing Song)Mother, I will have a husband, / And I will have him out of hand! / Mother, I will sure have one, / In spite of her that will have none. / For I have heard ‘tis trim when folks do love; / By good Sir John I swear, now I will prove. / Mother, I will sure have one, / In spite of her that will have none. / To the town, therefore, will I gad / To get me a husband, good or bad. / Mother, I will sure have one, / In spite of her that will have none.19331933Chorus & orch.A Kent Yeoman’s Wooing Song02 – Allegro vivo Ravenscroft‘I have House and Land in Kent’ – text adaptedfrom the composer Thomas Ravenscroft’s Melismata.I have house and land in Kent, / And if you’ll love me, love me now, / Tuppence ha’penny is my rent, / I cannot come every day to woo. / And he cannot come every day to woo. / I am my father’s eldest son, / My mother eke doth love me well, / For I can bravely clout my shone / And I full well can ring a bell. / And he full well can ring a bell. / He can bravely clout his agon, / And he full well can ring a bell. / He has house and land in Kent, / And if you’ll love him, love him now; / Tuppence ha’penny is his rent, / And he cannot come every day to woo. / And if you’ll love him, love him now. / My father he gave me a hog. /My mother she gave me a sow; /I have a godfather dwells thereby, / And he on me bestowed a plow. / His father gave him a hog, / His mother she gave him a sow; / A godfather then on him bestowed a plow. / But he cannot come every day to woo.19331933Chorus & orch.A Kent Yeoman’s Wooing Song03 – Meno mosso, con tenerezzaOne time I gave thee a paper of pins / Another time a tawdry lace; / And if thou wilt not grant me love, / In truth I’ll die before thy face. / And if thou wilt not grant him love, / In truth, he’ll die before thy face. / I have been twice our Whitsun-lord, /I have had ladies many fair /And eke thou hast my heart in hold, /And in my mind seem’st passing rare. /Thou hast his heart in hold /And in his mind seem’st passing rare. /Mother, I could have a husband, /And I could have him out of hand. /He has been twice our Whitsun-lord /He has a house and land in Kent, /And eke I have his heart in hold, /And in his mind seem passing rare. /Mother, shall I have a husband? /And shall I have him out of hand? /But he cannot come every day to woo.19331933Chorus & orch.A Kent Yeoman’s Wooing Song04 – Allegro ritmicoI cannot come every day to woo. /I will put on my best white slops, /And I will wear my yellow hose; / And on my head a good grey hat, /And in’t I’ll stick a lovely rose. /He’ll put on his best white slops, his yellow hose, /And on his head a good grey hat. /I will put on my best white slops, / And wear my yellow hose, /And on my head a good grey hat, /And I’ll stick a lovely, lovely rose. /John-a-Dun should have had me long ere this /I could have had him out of hand: /He said I had good lips to kiss. /But he cannot come every day to woo. /Tuppence ha’penny is my rent. /He is his father’s eldest son. /John-a-Dun should have had me long ere this: /He said I had good lips to kiss. /To the town wherefore will you gad? / Wherefore to the town will you gad /To get you a husband good or bad? /My father he gave me a hog, /My godfather on me bestowed a plow. /And I could have had him out of hand. /John-a-Dun should have had me long ere this: /He said I had good lips to kiss. /You can sure have a husband / In spite of her that will have none. / And he cannot come every day to woo. / Wherefore cease off, make no delay, / And if you’d love him, love him now, / Or else he’ll seek some other where, / He has house and land in Kent; / He is his father’s eldest son, / And eke his mother doth love him well, / I have his/thou hast my heart in hold / And in his/my mind seem’st passing rare. / And his mother doth love him well. / Wherefore if you’d love him, love him now, / He has had ladies many fair. / I have had ladies many fair; / I have been twice our Whitsun-lord. / For he cannot come every day to woo, / You can have a husband, / Spite of her that will have none. / Wherefore make no delay, / Mother, I can have him out of hand. / You can have a husband out of hand, / Wherefore make no delay. / But if you’ll love him, love him now, / Or else he’ll seek some otherwhere. / You can have a husband out of hand, / In spite of her that will have none. / Wherefore make no delay / And if you love him, love him now. / And I cannot come every day to woo. / Wherefore cease off, make no delay, / For I cannot come every day to woo, / And if you love me, love me now. / Mother, I will have a husband, / And I will have him out of hand. / She’ll have him out of hand now!19331933Solo songThe Joyce BookFloodJoyce, James1915, Poetry (May 1917)Goldbrown upon the sated flood / The rockvine clusters lift and sway. / Vast wings above the / lambent waters brood / Of sullen day. // A waste of waters ruthlessly / Sways and uplifts its weedy mane / Where brooding day stares down upon the sea / In dull disdain. // Uplift and sway, O golden vine, / Your clustered fruits to love’s full flood, / Lambent and vast and ruthless as is thine / Incertitude!19341934Solo songLost LoveBax, Clifford tr. (1886-1962)Twenty Chinese Poems (translated from the ChineseNow have I bidden farewell to the Spring, / That is ah! How fleetAnd a long farewell to my lover,Alas! How long is the pain!Truly the flowers in a year will blossom afresh at my feet.But never the season returnWhen I and my darling shall meet. / Who gave me a gift so precious, but left me to love it in vain? / The Master of Magic who sent it, / Ah! Surely could send it again. / If only to darken the darkness, / O Thou in Thy heavens above, / Why dost Thou light for a moment / The lamp of a beautiful thing? / Who is there now that will carry my little wine-gourd for love, / When I go next year to the meadow / To look on the joy of the Spring?193519351935Sec. choralA Song of WelcomeHarvey, F.W.After hard service, / Sweet to see again / The smoke of home arise in English lane! / Swords of the Sun, / Cutting foreign shadows, / Less lovely are than these green meadows. / Far have you wander’d, / No further let you roam, / But bide you here with your old friends / In your old English home. / Honours are yours, and fame: / They are but pretty parts, / And glory of the name / We guard within our hearts. / Welcome back from service, / Well and truly giv’n, to your dear home / Under an English heav’n!19351939Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis for male voices (TTBB)19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins02 - Happy StreetBalcomb, GladysThis must be the way to the sea, I’m sure it must be the way to the sea. The shops are gay with toys that float. Come buy a swan a painted boat. Inflated ball of scarlet and green. Come, buy a swan and a painted paper sunshade of gold and blue, a pail with sea-side greetings, too. The scent of sea-weed wafts from the rock, to the cool green waves in summer frocks. The children dance, the grown-ups scurry. Gone is sorrow, gone is worry. London streets are far-away now that we’re on a holiday.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins03 - Many RainbowsBalcomb, GladysRainbows shine in many things: Pretty ones in ladies’ rings. Little ones in old men’s glasses, in crystal bowls when sunlight passes, on wings of dragon-flies as well, and in the lining of a shell. There are rainbows trac’d in trav’lling snails and rainbows left in oily trails. But still most beautiful to me is a rainbow arch’d across the sea.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins04 - The Sea-Side LandladyBalcomb, GladysOur land-lady’s plump and kind as can be / And gives us good things fresh caught from the sea. / Our land-lady has such a fine tabby cat / Who begs for our tit-bits upon a red mat, / A parrot as well in a cage by itself / And a ship carved from cocoanuts upon a shelf. / Our land-lady’s husband who has some fine boats / Knows all a bout ev’ry craft that floats, / Our land-lady’s boy is away at sea. / And went when a lad not much older than me; Some day when I’m bigger I’ll too go to sea / And sail with that boy not much other than me.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins05 - Granny Sits Beside the SeaBalcomb, GladysGranny sits beside the sea, / Some kintting in her hand, / and why she doesn’t want to bathe I cannot understand, / I cannot, cannot understand. / Our shoes are standing two by two, / our clothes lie in a row; / She sits and guards them all day long, / She’d rather have it so. / Granny sits beside the sea / her eyes are blue and kind / Reminding me of gentle pools / The tide has left behind. Granny sits beside the sea, / her knitting nearly done, / She’s putting all her things away / For now it’s set of sun.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins06 - The Barrel-OrganBalcomb, GladysAl the London children danced, / One or two grown-ups advanced, / And on the pavement by the sea / remembered home, forgot their tea, / Folks outside the charmed circle / Began to whistle, then to sing a waltz, a shanty, hymn or carol, / It matter’d not to the wheezing barrel. / The organ from its vulgar throat set all its friendly tunes afloat, / The lilting simple songs it sang / Along the esplanade still rang. / Long after, on that summer’s day / The cockney, with his music gay, / and bag of pennies, slipped away, / And all day long a jangling sound,, / Lingered with the happy throng.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins07 - A Seaside lullabyBalcomb, GladysSleep little brother, beneath the sky. / Some-day you’ll swim when as old as I / but now in a cradle of soft yello sand / you’ll be safer, safer, / You’ll be so much safer with Mother at hand. / The pretty pink shells that you gathered today / Sink quite forgotten in sea-weed and spray; / Your little warm hands lie curved on your breast / In Mother’s cool shadow / Your sweet eyes find rest.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins08 - The Lair On the CliffBalcomb, GladysI cannot swim or dive, / And so I must contrive / to do a thing my brothers wouldn’t dare. / In exactly half a jiff / I scrable up the cliff, / And am spying through the railing of my lair. Spread before me is a view / Like a map of gold and blue, / With small canals and rivers dug in sand, / And when-e’er a steamer passes, / With uncle’s powerful glasses / I can almost touch the funnel with my hand. / Like a rainbow-hued confetti. / Scatter’d o’er the bay and jetty / Are people all with numbers to their door.. / They have names like Bill and Jane, / And most of them are plain / From here they look like specks and nothing more. / On the sands beneath my lair / Is my uncle in a chair, / and both my brothers swimming strong and free. / A drowsy tune comes drifting all around / With distant laughter from the sea, / The minstrels in the bay seem very far away / just a lazy sea-gull / spies my lair and me.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins09 - Lindy’s Ballet ShoesBalcomb, GladysA fairy borrowed Lindy’s shoes / Upon an autmn night / The lovelies time of all to choose / for the harvest moon shone bright. / She drew some moon-beams off the sea / And sewed them on for strings, / And ever since our Lindy has danced as tho’ on wings.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins10 - The Musical TrainBalcomb, GladysOh, how I clang and strain, / For I am a mighty train / With Vulcan in my entrails stoking fire into my brain, / As I clatter o’er my rails / Thro’ blizzard, sun or rain / I sing a cheerful song with this refrain; Adagio, Andantino, Ad libitum, Crescendo, Fortissimo, Forzando, do do. / The strong will often seek / To protext and help the weak, / So I carry little children to the sea / And they are very fond of me / As I flash between the trees / with my sulphurretted sneeze / I take into the distance this refrain. / Legaot, portamento and mezzo, Diminuendo, pianissimo, morendo. Doh, doh.19351935Sec. choralSea Urchins11 - The Open AirBalcomb, GladysThe House of God is clean and wide, Great winds sweep it from side to side / Rains and rivers, / Seas and fountains / Wash its hills, its moors, and mountains. / The House of God is clean and wide, / With plenty of room for all inside. / Narrow and mean is the house of man / God’s a mansion none can span. / Why are we bounded by roof and well, / When the “out of-doors” is free to all? / The House of God is clean and wide, / With plenty of room for all inside. / Come be a guest ‘neath the starlit sky, / On a bed of grass to softly lie, / Nature, as our Host’s Handmaiden, / Waits upon us, hands o’er-laden.1936 (u)Solo songLetheDoolittle, Hilda (1886-1961)Nor skin nor hide nor fleece / Shall cover you, / Nor curtain of crimson nor fine / Shelter of cedar-wood be over you, / Nor the fir-tree / Nor the pine. // Nor sight of whin nor gorse / Nor river-yew, / Nor fragrance of flowering bush, / Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you, / Nor of linnet, / Nor of thrush. // Nor word nor touch nor sight / Of lover, you / Shall long through the night but for this: / The roll of the full tide to cover you / Without question, / Without kiss. 19381950Chorus & orch.Hymnus Paradisi02 – Requiem aeternumRequiem aeternam dona eis,Et lux perpetua luceat eis.19381950Chorus & orch.Hymnus Paradisi03 – The Lord is My ShepherdPsalm 23The Lord is my shepherd:Therefore can I lack nothing.He shall feed me in a green pasture:And lead me forth beside the waters of comfort.He shall convert my soul:And bring me forth in paths of righteousness.Yea, though I walk through the valley of theshadow of death,I will fear no evil:Thy rod and thy staff comfort me.Thou shalt prepare a table before me againstthem that trouble me:Thou hast anointed my head with oil, and mycup shall be full.But thy loving kindness and mercy shall follow meall the days of my lifeAnd I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.19381950Chorus & orch.Hymnus Paradisi04 – Sanctus, I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes.Psalm 121Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus,Dominus Deus Sabaoth,I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills:From whence cometh my help.My help cometh even from the Lord:Who hath made heaven and earth.Sanctus Dominus Deus.He will not suffer thy foot to be moved:And he that keepeth thee will not sleep.Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.The Lord himself is thy keeper:The Lord is thy defence upon thy right hand; So that the sun shall not burn thee by day: Neither the moon by night.Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth.Pleni sunt coeli et terra agon tua.The Lord shall preserve thee from all evilYea, it is even he that shall keep thy soul.The Lord shall preserve thy going out, and thy coming in: From this time forth,For evermore.19381950Chorus & orch.Hymnus Paradisi05 – I Heard a Voice from HeavenRevelation 14:13I heard a voice from Heaven,Saying unto me, Write,From henceforth blessed are the dead which diein the Lord.Even so saith the Spirit.For they rest, they rest from their labours.Blessed are the dead.19381950Chorus & orch.Hymnus Paradisi06 – Holy is the True LightSalisbury Diurnal (tr. G.H. Palmer)Holy is the true light, and passing wonderful.Alleluia.Lending radiance to them that endured in theheat of the conflict:From Christ they inherit a home of unfadingagonor,Wherein they rejoice with gladness evermore.Requiem aeternam,Requiem dona eis sempiternam.19381939 (ns)Sec. choralSec. choralPiping Down the Valleys WileBlake, WilliamPiping down the valleys wild, / Piping songs of pleasant glee, / On a cloud I saw a child, / And he laughing said to me: // 'Pipe a song about a lamb!' / So I piped with merry cheer. / 'Piper, pipe that song again.' / So I piped: he wept to hear. / 'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; / Sing thy songs of happy cheer.' / So I sung the same again, / While he wept with joy to hear. // 'Piper, sit thee down and write / In a book, that all may read.' / So he vanished from my sight, / And I plucked a hollow reed, // And I made a rural pen, / And I stained the water clear, / And I wrote my happy songs / Every child may joy to hear.1939Sacred choralA New Year Carol19391939 (ns)Sec. choralShadow MarchStevenson, R. L.All around the house is the jet-black night; / It stares through the window-pane; / It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, / And it moves with the moving flame. // Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum, / With the breath of the Bogies in my hair; / And all around the candle and the crooked shadows come, / And go marching along up the stair. // The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, / The shadow of the child that goes to bed-- / All the wicked shadows coming tramp, tramp, tramp, / With the black night overhead.19391991Sec. choralThe History of An Afternoon – by and large and in the round at 49 up Amersham HillAnon.19411943Sacred choralAnthems In Time of WarLet God ArisePsalm 68: 1-3, 5-6Let God arise, and let his enemies be scatter’d; let them also that hate him flee before him. Like as the smoke vanisheth, so shalt thou drive them away; / and like as wax melteth at the fire, so let the ungodly perish at the presence of God.3 But let the righteous be glad and rejoice before God. Let them also be merry and joyful. He is a Father of the fatherless, and defendeth the cause of the widows even God in his holy habitation. He is the God that maketh men to be of one mind in an house; and bringeth the prisoners out of captivity.19411943Sacred choralAnthems In Time of WarLike as the Hart Psalm 42: 1-3Like as the hart desireth the waterbrooks : / so longeth my soul after thee, O God. / My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God : when shall I come to appear before the presence of God? My tears have been my meat day and night : while they daily say unto me, Where is now thy God?19411943Sacred choralAnthems In Time of WarO Pray for the Peace of JerusalemPsalm 122: 6-7O pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls: and plenteousness within thy palaces.19411943Sacred choralAnthems In Time of WarWe Have Heard with Our EarsPsalm 44: 1-9We have heard with our ears, O God, our fathers have told us what thou hast done in their time of old. How thou hast driv’n out the heathen with thy hand, and planted them in; how thou hast destroyed the nations, and cast them out. For they got not the land in possession through their own sword, neither was it their own arm that helped them but thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto them. Thou art my King, O God;send help unto Jacob. Through thee will we overthrow our enemies and in thy Name will we tread them under, that rise up against us. For I will not trust in my bow, It is not my sword that shall help me. But it is thou that savest us from our enemies, and puttest them to confusion that hate us. We make our boast of God all day long, and will praise thy Name for ever. Alleluia.19411995Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis in D for mens’ voices & organ1941 (m)Sacred choralPonder My Words, O Lord19421994Sacred choralO Mortal Man (Sussex Mummers’ Carol)Anon.O mortal man, remember well When Christ our Lord was born, He was crucified between two thieves And crowned with the thorn. Bless this master of this house With happiness beside ; Where e’er his body rides or walks, Lord Jesus be his guide. 19441951Sacred choralJubilate Collegium Regale (King’s College, Cambridge)O BE joyful in the Lord, all ye lands: serve the Lord with gladness, and come before his presence with a song. Be ye sure that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves: we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. O go your way into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and speak good of his Name. For the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting: and his truth endureth from generation to generation. Glory be . . .19441951Sacred choralTe Deum, Collegium Regale (King’s College, Cambridge)WE praise thee, O God : we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship thee: the Father everlasting. To thee all Angels cry aloud: the Heavens, and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim : continually do cry, Holy, Holy, Holy: Lord God of Sabaoth; Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty : of thy glory. The glorious company of the Apostles: praise thee. The goodly fellowship of the Prophets: praise thee. The noble army of Martyrs: praise thee. The holy Church throughout all the world: doth acknowledge thee; The Father of an infinite Majesty; Thine honourable, true and only Son; Also the Holy Ghost the Comforter. Thou art the King of Glory O Christ. Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father. When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man thou didst not abhor the Virgin’s womb. When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers. Thou sittest at the right hand of God in the glory of the Father. We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge. We therefore pray thee, help thy servants whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood. Make them to be numbered with thy Saints in glory everlasting. O Lord, save thy people and bless thine heritage. Govern them : and lift them up for ever. Day by day : we magnify thee And we worship thy Name ever world without end. Vouchsafe, O Lord to keep us this day without sin. O Lord, have mercy upon us have mercy upon us. O Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us as our trust is in thee. O Lord, in thee have I trusted let me never be confounded.19441958Sacred ChoralThree MotetsGod is Gone UpPsalm 47: 1-2, 5-8.God is gone up with a merry noise andthe Lord with the sound of the trump. O sing praises, O sing praises unto our God, O sing praises unto our King. For God is the King of all the earth. Sing ye praises with understanding. For the Lord is high, and to be fear’d: he is the great King upon all the earth. He shall subdue the people under us, and the nations under our feet. O clap your hands, all ye people, O clap your hands together, O sing unto God with the voice of melody. God reigneth over the heathen, God sitteth upon his holy seat.19451947Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc dimittis, Collegium Regale1946 1951Sacred ChoralBenedictus, Canterbury CathedralBlessed be the Lord God of Israel for he hath visited and redeemed his people And hath raised up a mighty salvation for us in the house of his servant David As he spake by the mouth of his holy Prophets which have been since the world began; That we should be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all that hate us To perform the mercy promised to our forefathers and to remember his holy Covenant; To perform the oath which he sware to our forefather Abraham that he would give us; That we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies might serve him without fear In holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life. And thou, Child, shalt be called the Prophet of the Highest: for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways; To give knowledge of salvation unto his people: for the remission of their sins, Through the tender mercy of our God whereby the day-spring from on high hath visited us; To give light to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death and to guide our feet into the way of peace. Glory be . . .1946 1951Sacred ChoralTe Deum, Canterbury Cathedral19461947Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Gloucester19481948Sec. choralKey of the KingdomAnon., adapted by de la MareThis is the key of the kingdom / In that kingdom is a city; / In that city is a town / In that town there is a street / In that street there winds a lane / In that lane there is a yard; / in that yard there is a house; / In that house there waits a room; In that room an empty bed / And in that bed a basket of Sweet Flowers. / Flowers in a basket, / Basket on a bed; / Bed in the chamber in the house; / House in the weedy yard / Yard in the winding lane; / Lane in the broad street; / Street in the high town; Town in the city; City in the Kingdom / Of the kingdom this is the Key.19481948Sacred ChoralWhere Wast Thou? (Motet for Canterbury)Job 38: 4-7; Psalm 102: 25-27; Genesis 8: 22; Psalm 104: 31,35Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare if thou hast understanding. Who determined the measures thereof, if thou knowest? Whereupon are the foundations fastened? Or who laid the corner stone thereof;When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth and the heav’ns are the work of thy hands. They shall perish, but thou shalt endure. They all shall wax old as doth a garment; but thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail. While the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat and summer and winter and day and night shall not cease. The glorious majesty of the Lord shall endure for ever; the Lord shall rejoice in his works. Praise the Lord, o my soul.19491949Sacred ChoralKing of GloryHerbert, George1633, The TempleKing of Glorie, King of Peace, I will love thee:And that love may never cease, I will move thee. // Thou hast granted my request, Thou hast heard me:Thou didst note my working breast, Thou hast spar’d me. //Wherefore with my utmost art I will sing thee,And the cream of all my heart I will bring thee. //Though my sinnes against me cried, Thou didst cleare me;And alone, when they replied, Thou didst heare me. //Sev’n whole days, not one in seven, I will praise thee.In my heart, though not in heaven, I can raise thee. //Thou grew’st soft and moist with tears, Thou relentedst:And when Justice call’d for fears, Thou disentedst. //Small it is, in this poore sort To enroll thee:Ev’n eternitie is to short To xtol thee.19491953Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc dimittis, New College, Oxford19501951 (ns)Sec. choralWalking in the SnowBuxton, John19511951Sacred ChoralLong, Long AgoBuxton, JohnLong, long ago, oh! So long ago / Christ was born in Bethlehem / To heal the world’s woe. / His Mother in the stable / Watched him where he lay / And knew for all his frailty / He was the world’s stay. / Long, long ago, oh! So long ago / Christ was born in Bethlehem. / While he lay there sleeping / In the quiet night / She listened to his breathing / And oh! Her heart was light. / Long, long ago, so long ago / Christ was born to heal the world’s woe. / She tended him and nursed him, / Giving him her breast, / And knew that it was God’s son / In her crook’d arm at rest. / Long, long ago, oh! So long ago / Christ was born in Bethlehem / To heal the world’s woe. / Shepherds at the sheep folds / Knew him for their King; / And gold and myrrh and frankincense / Three wise men did bring. / Long, long ago, Christ was born / To heal the world’s woe. / For he should be the Saviour, / Making wars to cease, / Who gives joy to all men, / And brings to them peace.19511954Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, St. Paul’s19511953Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Worcester19521953Sacred ChoralBehold, O God Our DefenderPsalm 84Behold, O God our defender, and look upon the face of thine Anointed. For one day in thy courts is better than a thousand.19521952Sacred ChoralBenedictus, St. George’s Chapel, Windsor19521952Sacred ChoralTe Deum, St. George’s Chapel, Windsor19521994Sacred ChoralThe ScribeDe la Mare, Walter (1873-1956)1918, Motley and Other Poems.What lovely things / Thy hand hath made, / The smooth-plumed bird / In its emerald shade, / The seed of the grass, / The speck of stone / Which the wayfaring ant / Stirs – and hastes on! // Though I should sit / By some tarn in thy hills / Using its ink / As the spirit wills / To write of Earth’s wonders, / Its live, willed things, / Flit would the ages / On soundless wings / Ere unto Z / My pen drew nigh; / Leviathan told, / And the honey-fly; / And still would remain / My wit to try - / My worn reeds broken, / The tarn dry, / All words forgotten - / Thou, Lord, and I.19531953Sec. choralInheritanceDe la Mare, WalterO lovely England, whose ancient peace / The direst dangers fret, Be on the memory of your past your sure devotion set; / Give still, true freedom to fulfil, / Give still your all without regret! Heed, through the troubles that benumb / Voices now stilled, yet clear, / Chaunting their deathless songs- too oft / To ears that would not hear, / Urging you, solemn, sweet, / To meet your fate unmoved by fear. / Earth’s ardent life incites you yet / Beyond the encircling seas; / And calls to causes, else forlorn / The children at your knees. / May their brave hearts in days to come / Dream unashamed of these.1953 2002Sacred ChoralTe Deum, Benedictus, Jubilate (not Communion Service)19541957Sacred choralThe House of the MindBeaumont, JosephAs earth’s pageant passeth by,Let reflection turn thine eye inward,And observe thy breast.There, alone dwells solid rest.That’s a close immured tow’rWhich can mock all hostile pow’r.To thyself a tenant be,And inhabit safe and free.Say not that this house is small,Girt up in a narrow wall,In a cleanly sober mindHeav’n itself full room doth find.Th’infinite Creator can dwell in it,And may not man?Here content make thy abodeWith thyself and with thy God.19541954Chorus & Orch.Missa Sabrinensis1954 (m)Sec. choralFour Horses19551956Chorus & orchAn English Mass19551956Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis in B Minor, Church Music Socy. Service at Westminster19561957Sacred ChoralHoly Communion (Collegium Regale)19571958Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, St. John’s Cambridge19571957Sacred ChoralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, St. Peter in Westminster1957 (u)1957Sec. choralI Mun Be Married a SundayUdall, NicholasI mun be married a Sunday, / Whosoever shall come that way, / I mun be married a Sunday. // Roister Doister is my name, / A lusty brute I am the same, / I mun be married a Sunday. // Christian Custance have I found, / A widow worth a thousand pound / I mun be married a Sunday. // Custance is as sweet as honey, / I her lamb and she my coney; / I mun be married a Sunday. // When we shall make our wedding feast, / There shall be cheer for man and beast; / I mun be married a Sunday.1957 (u)Sec. choralNew BroomsWilson (1514)19581958 (ns)Sec. choralPink AlmondTynan, Katharine (1861-1931)1930, Collected PoemsSo delicate, so airy / The almond on the tree, // Pink stars that some good fairy / Has made for you and me. // A little cloud of roses, / All in a world of gray, // The almond-flower uncloses / Upon the wild March day. // A mist of roses blowing / The way of fog and sleet, // A dust of roses showing / For gray dust in the street. 19581961Sacred ChoralMissa Aedis Christi1958 (m)Sec. choralA Christmas CarolWither, George19592000Sacred ChoralLevavi oculos meos (Aubade for a Wedding)Psalm 121Levavi oculos meos in montes. Unde veniet auxilium mihi. Dominus custodit me ab omni malo.19601961Sacred ChoralHymn for St. Cecilia, AVaughan Williams, UrsulaSing for the morning's joy, / Cecilia, sing, / in words of youth and praises of the Spring, / walk the bright colonnades by / Fountains' spray, / and sing as sunlight fills the waking day; / till angels, voyaging in upper air,pause on a wing and gather the clear sound / into celestial joy, wound and unwound, / a silver chain, or golden as your hair. / Sing for your loves of heaven and of earth, / in words of music, and each word a truth; / marriage of heart and longings that aspire,a bond of roses, and a ring of fire.Your summertime grows short and fades away, / terror must gather to a martyr's death; / but never tremble, the last indrawn breath / remembers music as an echo may. / Through the cold aftermath of centuries, / Cecilia's music dances in the skies; / lend us a fragment of the immortal air,that with your choiring angels we may share, / a word to light us thro' time-fettered night, / water of life, or rose of paradise, / so from the earth another song shall rise / to meet your own in / heaven's long delight1961 1962Sacred choralCoventry AntiphonIsaiah 56:7; Haggai 2:9My house shall be called an house / of prayer for all people. The glory of this latter house / shall be greater than of the former, / saith the Lord of hosts: and in / this place will I give peace, / saith the Lord of hosts.19611961Sacred choralSequence for St. Michael, AAlcuin of YorkMichael, Archangel, of the King of Kings, give ear to our voices.We acknowledge thee to be the Prince of the citizens of heaven:And at thy prayer God sends His Angels unto men, / That the enemy with cunning craft shall not prevail / To do the hurt he craves to weary men. / Yea, thou hast the dominion of perpetual Paradise, / And ever do the holy Angels honour thee. / Thou wast seen in the Temple of God, a censer of gold in thy hands,And the smoke of it fragrant with spices rose up till it came beforeGod. / Thou with strong hand didst smite the cruel dragon, And many souls didst rescue from his jaws. / Then was there a great silence in heaven, / And a thousand thousand saying ‘Glory to the Lord King’. / Hear us, Michael, greatest Angel, Come down a little from thy high seat, / To bring us the strength of God, and the lightning of His mercy. / And do thou, Gabriel, lay low our foes, / And thou, / Raphael, heal our sick, / Purge our disease, ease our pain, / And give us to share in the joys of the blessed.19631963Chorus & orch.Stabat Mater1.Stabat Mater dolorósa / Juxta Crucem lacrimósa, / Dum pendébat Filius. // 2.Cujus ánimam geméntem, / Contristátam et doléntem, / Pertransivit gladius. / O quam tristis et afflicta / Fuit illa benedicta / Mater Unigéniti! / Quae moerébat, et dolébat, / Et tremebat [Pia Mater,] dum vidébat / Nati poenas inclyti. 3.Quis est homo, qui non fleret, / Christi Matrem si vidéret / In tanto supplicio? / Quis non posset contristári, / Piam Matrem contemplári / Doléntem cum Filio? / Pro peccátis suae gentis / Vidit Jesum in torméntis, / Et flagéllis súbditum. / Vidit suum dulcem natum / Moriéntem desolátum, / Dum emisit spíritum. // 4.Eja mater, fons amóris, / Me sentíre vim dolóris / Fac, ut tecum lúgeam. / Fac ut árdeat cor meum / In amándo Christum Deum, / Ut sibi compláceam. // 5.Sancta Mater, istud agas / Crucifixi fige plagas / Cordi meo válide. / Tui nati vulneráti, / Tam dignáti pro me pati, / Poenas mecum dívide. / Fac me tecum [pie] vere flere, / Crucifixo condolére, / Donec ego víxero. / Juxta Crucem tecum stare, / Et me tibi sociáre / In planctu desídero. / Virgo vírginum praeclára, / Mihi jam non sis amára: / Fac me tecum plángere. // 6. Fac, ut portem Christi mortem, / Passiónis fac consórtem, / Et plagas recólere. / Fac me plagis vulnerári, / [Fac me] Cruce hac inebriári, / Et cruóre Fílii. / [Flammis ne urar succénsus,] Inflammatus et accensus, / Per te, Virgo, sim defénsus / In die judícii. / Fac me cruce custodiri, / Morte Chrti prae muniri, / Confoveri gratia.7.Christe, cum sit hinc exíre / Da per Matrem me venire / Ad palmam victóriae. / Fac me plagis vulnerari, / Cruce hac inebriari / Ob amorem Filii / Quando corpus moriétur, / Fac, ut ánimae donétur / Paradísi glória. Amen. [Allelúja.] At the cross her station keeping, / Mary stood in sorrow weeping / When her Son was crucified. While she waited in her anguish, / Seeing Christ in torment languish, / Bitter sorrow pierced her heart. / With what pain and desolation, / With what noble resignation, / Mary watched her dying Son. / Ever-patient in her yearning / Though her tear-filled eyes were burning, / Mary gazed upon her Son. / Who, that sorrow contemplating, / On that passion meditating, / Would not share the Virgin's grief? / Christ she saw, for our salvation, / Scourged with cruel acclamation, / Bruised and beaten by the rod. / Christ she saw with life-blood failing, / All her anguish unavailing, / Saw him breathe his very last. / Mary, fount of love's devotion, / Let me share with true emotion / All the sorrow you endured. / Virgin, ever interceding, / Hear me in my fervent pleading: / Fire me with your love of Christ. Mother, may this prayer be granted: / That Christ's love may be implanted / In the depths of my poor soul. At the cross, your sorrow sharing, / All your grief and torment bearing, / Let me stand and mourn with you.Fairest maid of all creation, / Queen of hope and consolation, / Let me feel your grief sublime. / Virgin, in your love befriend me, / At the Judgment Day defend me. / Help me by your constant prayer. / Savior, when my life shall leave me, / Through your mother's prayers receive me With the fruits of victory. / Virgin of all virgins blest! / Listen to my fond request: / Let me share your grief divine Let me, to my latest breath, / In my body bear the death / Of your dying Son divine. / Wounded with His every wound, / Steep my soul till it has swooned / In His very Blood away. / Be to me, O Virgin, nigh, / Lest in flames I burn and die, / In His awe-full judgment day. / Savior, when my life shall leave me, / Through your mother's prayers / receive me / With the fruits of victory. / While my body here decays / May my soul your goodness praise, / Safe in heaven eternally. Amen Alleluia. 19641964Sacred choralTake Him, Earth for CherishingPrudentius (348-413) from Hymnus circa Esxequias Defuncti (tr. Helen Waddell)Take him, earth, for cherishing To thy tender breast receive him. Body of a man I bring thee, Noble even in its ruin. Once was this a spirit’s dwelling, By the breath of God created. High the heart that here was beating, Christ the prince of all its living. Guard him well, the dead I give thee, Not unmindful of his creature Shall He ask it: He who made it Symbol of His mystery. Comes the hour God hath appointed To fulfill the hope of men, Then must thou, in very fashion, What I give, return again. Body of a man I bring thee. Not though ancient time decaying Wear away these bones to sand, Ashes that a man might treasure In the hollow of his hand: Not though wandering winds and idle winds, Drifting through the empty sky, Scatter dust was nerve and sinew, Is it given to man to die. Once again the shining road Leads to ample Paradise; Open are the woods again, That the Serpent lost for men. Take, O take him, mighty Leader, Take again thy servant’s soul. Grave his name, and pour the fragrant Balm upon the icy stone. Take him, Earth, for cherishing, To thy tender breast receive him. Body of a man I bring thee, Noble in its ruin. By the breath of God created. Christ the prince of all its living. Take him earth, for cherishing.19641965 (ns)Sec. choralThe Summer is ComingGuinness,BryanThe summer is coming over the hills. / The milk of the blackthorn is bursting and spills; All day the cuckoo in County Mayo / Breathes like a flute as he flits high and low. / Dark is the turf and grey is the stone, / And sad is the sky for the wild geese gone, / But the gleaming coat of the grass begins / Under the golden brooch of the whins. / The black boats walk on the silver strand, / Like beetles that go on the edge of the land; / The black boats tilt on the western waves; / Black heifers stand over the old green graves. / The summer is coming over the sea, / And lights with soft kisses on you and on me. / All day the cuckoo in County Mayo / Breathes like a flute as he fl its high and low. / The summer is coming over the hills. / The milk of the blackthorn is bursting and spills; All day the cuckoo in County Mayo / Breathes like a flute as he flits high and low.19652009Sacred choralGod be in My HeadPynson, RichardHorace BVM (1514)God be in my head and in my understanding / God be in mine eyes and in my looking; / God be in my mouth and in my speaking; / God be in my heart and in my thinking; / God be at mine end, and at my departing.19651965Sacred choralTe Deum, St. Mary, Redcliffe, Bristol19661992Sacred choralTe Deum Laudamus, St. Paul’s Columbia University19661968Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Salisbury19671968Sacred choralBenedictus es, DomineDaniel 3:23 et seq in RC canonBlessed art thou, O Lord God of our fathers: praised and exalted above all for ever. Blessed art thou for the Name of they Majesty: praised and exalted above all for ever. Blessed art thou in the temple of thy holiness: praised and glorified above all for ever. Blessed art thou that beholdest the depths: praised and exalted above all for ever. Blessed art thou on the glorious throne of thy kingdom: praised and glorified above all for ever. Blessed art thou in the firmament of heaven: praised and exalted above all for ever. Glory be . . .19671967Sacred choralJubilate Deo (St. Peter ad Vincula, Tower of London)19671968Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Chichester19671980Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, St. Augustine’s, Edgbaston19671968Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Winchester19671970Sacred choralPreces and ResponsesO Lord, open thou our lips. / And our mouth shall show forth thy praise. / O God, make speed to save us. / O Lord, make haste to help us. / Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost / as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. / Praise ye the Lord. / The Lord’s name be praised. / The Lord be with you. / And with thy spirit. / Let us pray.THE LESSER LITANY (choir)Lord, have mercy upon us. / Christ, have mercy upon us. / Lord, have mercy upon us. / Our Father, which art in heav’n, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen. / SUFFRAGES O Lord, show thy mercy upon us. / And grant us thy salvation. / O Lord, save the Queen. / And mercifully hear us when we call upon thee. / Endue thy ministers with righteousness. / And make thy chosen people joyful. / O Lord, save thy people. / And bless thine inheritance. / Give peace in our time, O Lord. / Because there is none other that fighteth for us, but only thou, O God. / O God, make clean our hearts within us. / And take not thy Holy Spirit from us.19681968Sacred choralOne Thing Have I DesiredPsalm 27: 4-7One thing have I desired of the Lord, which I will require: even that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to visit his temple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his tabernacle: yea, in the secret places of his tabernacle shall he hide me, and set me up upon a rock of stone. And now shall he lift up mine head: above mine enemies round about me. Therefore will I offer in his dwelling an oblation with great gladness: I will sing, and speak praises unto the Lord.19681969Sacred choralCoventry Mass19691972Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Hereford19701970Sacred choralThee Will I LoveBridges, Roberst S. (1844-1930) From the Yattendon HymnalThee will I love, my God and King, / Thee will I sing, my strength and tow’r; / For evermore thee will I trust,O God most just of truth and pow’r: / Who all things hast in order placed, / Yea, for thy pleasure hast created;And on thy throne unseen, unknown, / Reignest alone in glory seated. / Set in my heart thy love I find; / My wand’ring mind to thee thou leadest; / My trembling hope, my strong desireWith heav’nly fire thou kindly feedest. / Lo, all things fair thy path prepare, / Thy beauty to my spirit calleth, / Thine to remain in joy or pain, / And count it gain, whate’er befalleth. / O more and more thy love extend, / My life befriend with heav’nly pleasure,That I may win / Thy pearl of price, thy Paradise, thy countless treasure. / Since but in thee I can go free / From earthly care and vain oppression, / This pray’r I make for Jesu’s sake: / That thou me take in thy possession.19701972Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc dimittis, Magdalen College, Oxford19721992Sacred choralA Grace for 10 Downing StreetArmstrong, Robert (Lord Armstrong of Ilminster)Bless this house, O Lord, we pray. Bless the food we eat this day. God save the Queen, preserve our host, and hearken to our festal toast: may those we welcome happy be in pastime with good company. Benedictus Dominum nostrum. Amen.19721978Sacred choralCome, My SoulNewton, e, my soul, thy suit prepare:Jesus loves to answer prayer;He Himself has bid thee pray,Therefore will not say thee nay; // Thou art coming to a King,Large petitions with thee bring;For His grace and power are such,None can ever ask too much; // Let they love my spirit cheer;Be my guide, my guard, my friend; / Lead me to my journey’s end.19721989Sacred choralNow Abideth Faith, Hope and CharityI Corinthians 13:8-13; 1 John 4: 7-8Now abideth faith, hope, charity: these three. But the greatest of these is charity. Charity suffereth long, and is kind and envieth not. Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own. Is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God, for God is love.19731980Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, York19741977Sacred choralExultate DeoExtracts from various psalms, including psalm 115:17Sing we merrily unto God our strength: / Take the psalm, bring hither the timbrel merry harp with the lute. / Blow up the trumpet in the new moon: / make a cheerful sound, even in the time appointed, / and upon our solemn feast day. / Praise the Lord, O my soul / praise his name in the dance, praise him in the dance, O my soul. / Sing we merrily unto God our strength / make a joyful noise unto the God of Jacob / for he is gracious and full of compassion, / slow to anger and of great mercy. / The dead praise not thee, O Lord / Neither all they that go down in silence. / But we will praise our God from this time forth for evermore. 19742000Sacred choralWest Riding Cathedral Festival Te Deum19751975Sacred choralMagnificat & Nunc Dimittis, Dallas19761977Sacred choralFear of the Lord, theEcclesiasticus 1:11-13(11) The fear of the Lord is honour, and glory, and gladness, and a crown of rejoicing. (12) The fear of the Lord maketh a merry heart, and giveth joy and a long life. (13) Whoso feareth the Lord, it shall go well with him at the last, and he shall find favour in the day of his death.19771978Sacred choralAntiphonHerbert, GeorgeLet all the world in every corner sing, my God and King! / The heavens are not too high, his praise may thither fly, / the earth is not too low, his praises there may grow. / Let all the world in every corner sing, my God and King! // Let all the world in every corner sing, my God and King! / The church with psalms must shout, no door can keep them out;but, above all, the heart must bear the longest part. / Let all the world in every corner sing, my God and King!19771977Sacred choralHills of the NorthOakley, Charles Edward (1832-65)Hills of the North, Rejoice! / River and mountain spring, / Hark to the advent voice; / Valley and lowland, sing; / Though absent long, your Lord is nigh; / He judgment brings and victory.Isles of the southern seas, / Deep in your coral caves / Pent be each warring breeze, / Lulled be your restless waves: / He comes to reign with boundless sway, / And makes your wastes His great highway.Lands of the East, awake, / Soon shall your sons be free; / The sleep of ages break, / And rise to liberty. / On your far hills, long cold and grey, / Has dawned the everlasting day.Shores of the utmost West, / Ye that have waited long, / Unvisited, unblest, / Break forth to swelling song; / High raise the note, that Jesus died, / Yet lives and reigns, the Crucified.Shout, while ye journey home; / Songs be in every mouth; / Lo, from the North we come, / From East, and West, and South.City of God, the bond are free, / We come to live and reign in thee!19771977Sacred choralI Love All Beauteous ThingsBridges, Robert (1844-1930)I love all beauteous things, / I seek and adore them; / God hath no better praise, / And man in his hasty days / Is honoured for them. / I too will something make / And joy in the making; / Altho’ / tomorrow it seem’ / Like the empty words of a dream / Remembered, on waking.19771978Sacred choralSweetest of SweetsHerbert, GeorgeSweetest of sweets, I thank you:When displeasure / Did thro’ my bodie wounde my minde, / You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure / A dainty lodging me assigned. / Now I in you without a bodie move, / Rising and falling with your wings: / We both together sweetly live and love,Yet say sometimes, “God help poor Kings.” / Comfort, I’ll die;For if you poste from me, / Sure I shall do so, and much more: / But if I travel in your companie, / You know the way to heaven’s door.19771991Sacred choralTe Deum, Washington Cathedral19771978Sacred choralTryste NoelGuiney, Louise ImogenThe ox he openeth wide the door, / And from the snow he calls her in; / And he hath seen her smile therefore, / Our Lady without sin.Now soon from sleep / A star shall leap, / And soon, and soon arrive both king and hind; / Ah Ah me! / But, O the place could but find! / The ox has hush’d his voice and bent / True eye of pity o’er the mow; / And on his lovely neck the Blessed lay her brow.Around her feet / Full warm and sweet / How bow’ry breath doth meekly dwell: / Ah me! / For close she gathereth withal / Our Lord, her little son. / Glad hind and king / Their gift may bring, Amen. / But would tonight my tears were there; / Between her bosom and his hair! Amen.19781978Sacred choralI Would Be TrueWalter, Howard Arnold (1883-1918)I would be true, for there are those who trust me; I would be pure, for there are those that care;I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; / I would be brave, for there is much to dare.I would be friend of all, the foe, the friendless; / I would be giving, and forget the gift; / I would be humble, for I know my weakness;I would look up, and laugh, and love and live. Sir Patrick SpensThe King sits in Dunfermline town drinking the blood-red wine; “O where shall I get a skeely skipper to sail this new ship o’ mine?” O up and spake an eldern Knight, Sat at the King’s right knee: “Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor that ever sail’d the sea.” Our king has written a braid letter and sealed it with his hand And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, was walking on the strand. “To Norroway, to Norroway, to Norroway o’er the faem; The King’s daughter of Norroway, ’tis thou maun bring her hame.” The first word that Sir Patrick read so loud, loud laughed he The next word that Sir Patrick read a tear blinded his e’ee. “O who is it has done this deed, and told the King of me? To send us out at this time o’ year to sail upon the sea?” “Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail or sleet, our ship must sail the faem; The King’s daughter of Norroway ’tis we must bring her hame.” They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn wi’ a’ the speed they may They have landed in Norroway upon a Wodensday. They hadna been a week, a week in Norroway but twae when that the lords of Norroway began aloud to say. “Ye Scottish-men spend a’ our King’s goud and a’ our queen-is fee” “Ye lie !” “Ye lie, ye liars loud” Fu’ loud I hear ye lie!”“For I ha’e brought as much white money as gane my men and me And I brought a half-fou o’ gude red goud Out o’er the sea with me”. “Mak’ ready, mak’ ready my merry men all, Our gude ship sails the morn!” “Now ever alack, my master dear I fear a deadly storm”. “I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi’ the auld moon in her arm, And if we gang to sea, master I fear we’ll come to harm”. They hadna sail’d a league, a league, A league but barely three When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud And gurgly grew the sea.The ankers brak and the top mast lap It was sic a deadly storm And the waves came o’er the broken ship Till all her sides were torn. “O where will I get a gude sailor to take the helm in hand Till I get up to the tall top-mast To see if I can spy land?” “O here am I, a sailor bold, to take the helm in hand, Till you get up to the tall top-mast But I fear you’ll not spy land”. They hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bolt flew out of the gudely ship And the salt sea it came in! “Gae fetch a web o’ the silken claith Another o’ the twine And wap them into the ship’s side, And let na the sea come in!” They fetched a web o’ the silken claith Another o’ the twine And they wapped them round that gude ship’s side, But still the sea came in. O laith, O laith were our gude Scots lords To weet their cork-heel’d shoon! But lang ere a’ the play was play’d They wat their hats aboon. And many was the featherbed that fluttered on the faem: And many was the gude lord’s son That never mair cam hame. The ladies wrang their fingers white The maidens tore their hair All for the sake of their true loves, For them they’ll see nae mair. O lang, lang may the ladies sit Wi’ the fans into their hand Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand.O lang, lang may the maidens sit, Wi’ the gude kaims in their hair A’ waiting for their own true loves, For them they’ll see nae mair. Half owre, half owre to Aberdour, ’Tis fifty fathoms deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet. verse 1, line 3: skeely = skilful verse 3, line 1: braid = broad, open, long verse 4, line 4: maun = must verse 10, line 1: goud = gold verse 11, line 3: fou = bushel verse 14, line 4: gurgly = rough verse 18, line 2: ane = one verse 19, line 3: wap = throw violently verse 21, line 1: laith = loath verse 21, line 4: aboon = above verse 25, line 2: kaims = combs Please note that in a small number of places, minor differences exist between the text and recording. (f) -- Fragment(m) – Missing(ns) – Score not available to verify text(sk) – Sketch(u) – Unpublished or out of print ................
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