An American Sampler
The Sixth Annual Benefit for The Hospice of Cambridge
Saturday, March 27, 1999 at 8:00 pm.
Charles Fussell
Mists (1997)
Kurt Weill
Kiddush
Charles Ives
Down East, Sixty-seventh Psalm, Circus Band
Samuel Barber
To be Sung on the Water, Reincarnations
Irving Fine
The Choral New Yorker
Norman Delo Joio
A Jubilant Song
Cole Porter
In the Still of the Night, arranged by R. Hunter
Ernst Bacon
Last Train, from A Tree on the Plains
Stevedore's Work Song
Ragged Leevy, arranged by D. Morrow
African-American "Spirituals"
Deep River, arranged by Alice Parker/Robert Shaw
Ride the Chariot,arranged by William Henry Smith
Program notes
Texts
Mists
Charles Fussell
March
Awake to the cold light
of wet wind running
twigs in tremors.
Walls are naked.
Twilights raw –
and when the sun taps steeples
their glistenings dwindle
upward…
March
slips along the ground
like a mouse under pussy-
willows, a little hungry.
The vagrant ghost of winter,
is it this that keeps the chimney
busy still? For something still
nudges shingles and windows:
but waveringly, – this ghost,
this slate-eyed saintly wraith
of winter wanes
and knows its waning.
Postscript
Though now but marble are the marble urns,
Though fountains droop in waning light and pain
Glitters on the edges of wet ferns,
I should not dare to let you in again.
Mine is a world foregone though not yet ended, –
An imagined garden grey with sundered boughs
And broken branches, wistful and unmended,
And mist that is more constant than all vows.
October - November
Indian-summer-sun
With crimson feathers whips away the mists;
Dives through the filter of trellises
And gilds the silver on the blotched arbor-seats.
Now gold and purple scintillate
On trees that seem dancing
In delirium;
Then the moon
In a mad orange flare
Floods the grape-hung night.
-- Hart Crane
Kiddush
Kurt Weill
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Baruch ata Adonai
Baruch hu uvaruch sh'mo
Elohaynu melech haolam
boray p'ri hagafen. Amen.
Baruch ata Adonai
Baruch hu uvaruch sh'mo
Elohaynu melech haolam
asher kid'shanu b'mitsvotav
v'ratza-vanu.
V'shabat kad'sho b'ahava uv'ratson
hinchilanu zikaron l'maa'say v'rayshit.
Ki hu yom t'chila l'mikraay kodesh
zaycher litsiat mitsrayim;
ki vanu vacharta v'otanu kidashta
mikawl ha a'mim V'shabat kawdsh'cha
b'ahava uv'ratson hinchaltanu.
Baruch ata Adonai.
Baruch hu uvaruch sh'mo.
M'kadesh hashabat. Amen.
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Blessed art thou, Lord,
(Blessed be He and blessed be His Name,)
King of the universe
Who createst the fruit of the vine. Amen.
Blessed art thou, Lord,
(Blessed be He and blessed be His Name,)
King of the universe
Who has sanctified us with thy commandments
and has been pleased with us;
Thou hast graciously given us thy Holy Sabbath
as a heritage, in remembrance of creation.
The Sabbath is the first of the holy festivals
which recall the exodus from Egypt.
Indeed, Thou hast chosen us and hallowed
us above all nations, and hast graciously
given us thy Holy Sabbath as a heritage.
Blessed art thou, Lord,
(Blessed be He and blessed be His Name,)
who hallowest the Sabbath. Amen.
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Down East
Charles E. Ives
Ev'ry Sunday morning, when the chores were almost done,
from that little parlor sounds the old melodeon,
"Nearer my God to Thee, nearer to Thee;"
With those strains a stronger hope comes nearer to me.
Songs! Visions of my homeland, come with strains of childhood,
Come with tunes we sang in school days and with songs from mother's heart;
Way down east in a village by the sea,
stands an old, red farm house that watches o'er the lea;
All that is best in me, lying deep in memory,
draws my heart where I would be, nearer to thee.
Sixty-Seventh Psalm
Charles E. Ives
God be merciful unto us, and bless us; and cause his face to shine upon us;
That thy way may be known upon earth, thy saving health among all nations.
Let the people praise thee, O God; let all the people praise thee.
O let the nations be glad and sing for joy:
For thou shalt judge the people righteously,
And govern the nations upon the earth.
Let the people praise thee, O God; let all the people praise thee.
Then shall the earth yield her increase;
And God, even our own God, shall bless us.
God shall bless us; And all the ends of the earth shall fear Him.
Circus Band
Charles E. Ives
All summer long, we boys dreamed `bout big circus joys!
Down Main Street, comes the band,
Oh! "Ain't it a grand and glorious noise!"
Horses are prancing, Knights advancing;
Helmets gleaming Pennants streaming,
Cleopatra's on her throne!
That golden hair is all her own.
Where is the lady all in pink?
Last year she waved to me I think,
Can she have died? Can that rot!
She is passing but she sees me not.
Where is the clown, that funny gink,
Last year he winked at me I think,
Can he have died? Can that rot!
He's still a-winkin' but he sees me not.
Riding down from Bangor on the midnight train,
Rip, slam, bang we go, sir, right on thro' the rain.
When in after years we take our children on our knee,
We'll teach them that the alphabet begins with D.K.E.
To be Sung on the Water
Samuel Barber
Beautiful, my delight,
Pass, as we pass the wave,
Pass, as the mottled night
Leaves what it cannot save,
Scattering dark and bright.
Beautiful, pass and be
Less than the guiltless shade
To which our vows were said;
Less than the sound of the oar
To which our vows were made,
Less than the sound of its blade
Dipping the stream once more.
-- Louise Bogan
Reincarnations
Samuel Barber
Mary Hynes
She is the sky
Of the sun!
She is the dart
Of love!
She is the love
Of my heart!
She is a rune!
She is above
The women
Of the race of Eve,
As the sun
Is above the moon!
Lovely and airy
The view from the hill
That looks down on
Ballylea!
But no good sight
Is good, until
By great good luck
You see
The Blossom
Of Branches
Walking towards you,
Airily.
Anthony O Daly
Since your limbs were laid out
The stars do not shine!
The fish leap not out
In the waves!
On our meadows the dew
Does not fall in the morn.
For O Daly is dead!
Not a flow'r can be born!
Not a word can be said!
Not a tree have a leaf!
Anthony!
After you
There is nothing to do!
There is nothing but grief!
The Coolin
Come with me, under my coat,
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat,
Or wine if it be thy will.
And we will talk, until
Talk is a trouble, too.
Out on the side of the hill;
And nothing is left to do,
But an eye to look into an eye;
And a hand in a hand to slip;
And a sigh to answer a sigh;
And a lip to find out a lip!
What if the night be black!
And the air on the mountain chill!
Where the goat lies down in her track,
And all but the fern is still!
Stay with me, under my coat!
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat,
Out on the side of the hill!
-- James Stephens, after Raftery
The Choral New Yorker
Irving Fine
Hen Party
The pack gathers on the black Sunday.
Mrs. Lathers and Mrs. Grundy give a party for all the witches.
The food is hearty, there are no hitches.
One stitches, another chatters
all blather of small matters
when a-sudden enter in agéd ermin,
the Queen-Viper, the Ace of vermin.
The pied piper overlooked her and Cotton Mather should
have cooked her.
A clacking racket, a great stir
In the center, the dowager.
Old Hecate comes seldom.
Each hag and Hell beldam
tells a scandal,
bites a sandwich,
lights a candle to the Grand Witch.
After the curses and incantations,
fetch the hearses for the reputations.
-- Peggy Bacon
Pianola D'Amore
Sing hey, sing ho, sing heigh-o
From Calais, Maine to Cal.,
For the blue that's in the sky-o,
For the will that's in the shall.
For the ding as in the dongo,
For the larynx in the lad.
And the ping preceeding pongo.
And the sweet succeeding sad.
Sing April so embry-o from Cal. to Calais, Maine.
For the little bow tie awry-o.
And the Queen of the can't complain.
Sing popular, sing classic.
"Now doth the merry, merry what?"
Sing tenor, boy, or Bassic or maybe better not.
-- David McCord
Design for October
Then I heard a voice saying
Summer is gone!
Summer is ended.
It is done.
It is gone.
It is ended.
No more at morning will you stir the fawn,
Or see the black birds, black on the lawn.
No more at morning will you hear the crying geese of the
dawn.
Then in my window,
Grave was I.
Gravely I watched the Summer die
And the last of the crying geese go by.
-- Jake Falstaff
Caroline Million
Caroline Million is a hundred years old.
She feels pretty good but her feet are cold.
She's sitting by the chimney in a nice warm nook.
She's fingering her corn cob and the Lord's good book.
She's sitting in the firelight,
She's sitting by the fire.
She's looking at her daughter,
hot with desire to kill her
lumpy daughter, and feed her
to the crows.
Crows love fat meat
Ev'rybody knows.
-- Isabel MacMeekin
A Jubilant Song
Norman Dello Joio
O! Listen to a jubilant song,
The joy of our spirit is uncaged,
My soul it darts like lightning!
Listen to a jubilant song,
For we sing to the joys of youth,
and the joy of a glad light-beaming day.
Listen to a jubilant song,
For we sing to the joy of life, and youth,
and the joy of a glad light-beaming day.
O! Our spirit sings a jubilant song
that is to life full of music,
a life full of concord, a life full of harmony.
We sing prophetic joys of lofty ideals.
We sing a universal love awaking in the hearts of men.
O! to have life, a poem of new joys, to shout!
To dance and exult, shout and leap.
O! to realize space and flying clouds, the sun and moon,
O! to be rulers of life, O! to be rulers of destiny, and of life.
O! Listen to a song, a jubilant song.
Listen to our song, the joy of our spirit is uncaged.
We dance, exult, we shout and leap.
O! Listen to our song. O!
In the Still of the Night
Cole Porter, arr. R. Hunter
from Rosalie
Do you love me
As I love you?
Are you my life to be,
My dream come true?
Or will this dream of mine
fade out of sight
Like the moon growing dim
on the rim of the hill
in the chill, still of the night?
In the still of the night,
As I gaze from my window,
At the moon in its flight,
My thoughts all stray to you.
In the still of the night,
While the world is in slumber
Oh, the times without number,
Darling, when I say to you:
Last Train
Ernst Bacon
from A Tree on the Plains
He's taken de las' train,
Halleluia, O my Lord!
He's gone where there's plenty o' rain,
Halleluia, all aboard.
I hear the tracks a-singin',
Halleluia, O my Lord!
For him the bells are ringin',
Halleluia, all aboard.
The engineer is a-fussin',
Halleluia, O my Lord!
And the devil is a-cussin',
Halleluia, all aboard!
The tracks rise to the sky,
Halleluia, O my Lord!
Get to heaven by and by,
Halleluia, all aboard.
The Judgment Day is comin',
Halleluia, O my Lord!
And God's fiery rain is a-fallin',
Halleluia, all aboard.
He's taken de last train,
Halleluia, O my Lord!
He's gone where there's plenty o' rain,
Halleluia, all aboard!
Ragged Leevy
Stevedores' Work Song,
arr. D. Morrow
Ragged Leevy,
Oh Do ragged Leevy,
Ragged Leevy,
Po' boy, he's ragged like a jay bird.
Mister Sippelina ha, ha
Gonna build me a stone fence.
Oh soon in the mornin' when I rise
I'm gonna sit by the fiah.
Mamma Dinah,
Oh Do Mamma Dinah,
Mamma Dinah,
Po' gal, I cannot support you,
Mister Sippelina ha, ha,
Gonna build me a stone fence.
Sweet potata, Oh Boy!
There's two in de fiah.
Deep River
African-American "Spiritual,"
arr. Alice Parker/Robert Shaw
Deep river,
My home is over Jordan,
Deep river, Lord,
I want to cross over into campground.
Oh, don't you want to go
To the Gospel Feast,
That Promised Land,
where all is peace?
Ride the Chariot
African-American "Spiritual,"
arr. William Henry Smith
I'm gonna ride the chariot in the morning, Lord,
I'm gonna ride the chariot in the morning, Lord,
I'm gettin' ready for the judgment day, my Lord, my Lord.
Are you ready my brother/sister? Oh yes,
Are you ready for the journey? Oh yes,
Do you want to see your Jesus? Oh yes,
I'm waitin' for the chariot `cause I'm ready to go.
I never can forget that day,
When all my sins were taken away,
My feet were snatched from the miry clay,
I'll serve my Lord till judgment day,
I'm gonna ride in the chariot in the morning, Lord,
I'm gonna ride in the chariot in the morning, Lord,
I'm gettin' ready for the judgment day, my Lord, my Lord.
I'm gonna ride in the chariot to see my Lord.
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