Category Archives: my favorite music

Carl Nielsen, “Fynsk Foraar” (“Springtime in Funen”)

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/carl-nielsen-fynsk-foraar-woldike-danish-radio-symph-lp.mp3?_=1

 

 

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Funen, April 22, 2018; photo by Roger W. Smith

Funen, April 22, 2018; photo by Roger W. Smith

 

It should be noted that this lovely and charming choral work is autobiographical. The composer, Carl Nielsen (1865-1931), was born and raised on the island of Funen (Danish: Fyn). “Fynsk foraar” means “springtime in Funen.”

I finally got to Funen on a trip this April.

The recording posted here is of a landmark LP featuring the Danish conductor Mogens Wöldike, who studied under Nielsen and knew him personally. I bought this rare recording in New York City in the mid-1970’s for $10. It was a sort of big expense for me then.

I find enchanting the melodies and also the underling rhythms. Listen, for instance, to the soprano solo “Å se, nu kommer våren” (O see, spring is coming); and the baritone solo which follows immediately, “Den milde dag er lys og lang” (The mild day is bright and long), which brings tears to my eyes.

 

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The cantata is divided into the following sections:

Som en græsgrøn plet (Like a grass-green spot)

Å se, nu kommer våren (O see, spring is coming)

Den milde dag er lys og lang (The mild day is bright and long)

Der har vi den aldrende sol igen (There we see the ageing sun again)

Til dansen går pigerne arm i arm (To the dance, girls walk arm in arm)

Jeg tænder min pibe i aftenfred (I light my pipe in the evening’s peace)

Og månen jeg ser (And I see the moon)

Den blinde spillemand (The blind fiddler)

Nu vil vi ud og lege (Now we will go and play)

De gamle (The old folk)

Dansevisen (Dance song)

 

A libretto in Danish and English is posted here.

Danish libretto

English libretto

 

— posted by Roger W. Smith

   May 2018

 

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from Wikipedia:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fynsk_Foraar

 

Fynsk Foraar (Springtime on Funen), for soloists, chorus and orchestra, Opus 42, is Carl Nielsen’s last major choral work. Written to accompany a prize-winning text by Aage Berntsen, it was first performed in Odense’s Kvæghal (Cattle Hall) on July 8, 1922 where it was conducted by Georg Høeberg.

Background

Auage Berntsen, a medical doctor and a writer, was the winner of a competition arranged around 1917 by the Dansk Korforening (Danish Choral Society) for a text on Danish history or landscape which would subsequently be set to music by Carl Nielsen. Several years went by before the composer could find the time or inclination to work on the piece, especially as he was in the middle of composing his Fifth Symphony. Indeed, on August 19, 1921, he wrote: “For some time I have not felt very comfortable because I could not get started on the choral work which I must have done by 1 September, and every day I considered throwing it away and informing the board of all these combined societies that I had to beg off… But then one day I found the tone and the style, which will be a light mixture of lyricism and humor, and now it is well in hand and will soon be finished.

Only with the help of his pupil Nancy Dalberg, who had helped with fair-copying the large score for Aladdin was he able to meet his deadline. On September 3, 1921, he wrote to his wife: “My new choral piece has turned out to be a really big piece of work (42 pages in the piano arrangement) and has now actually been delivered on time. But I have also worked a lot and with a certain lightness. The poet has called it Springtime on Funen but I also give it a subtitle, Lyrical Humoresque, which suggests that the style is light and lively. … Now I will continue with my interrupted symphony.”

Reception

The first performance of Fynsk Foraar was at the opening concert of Third National Choral Festival which took place on July 8, 1922 in the huge Odense Kvæghal (Cattle Hall), specially renamed Markedshallen (Market Hall) for the occasion. The circumstances were not ideal. While Nielsen had envisaged the work for a fairly small orchestra and choir, there were 80 in the orchestra and several hundred in the choirs from Funen and Copenhagen. The hall itself could accommodate up to 10,000 people.

The day after the concert, Politiken commented: “Enthusiastic applause rewarded the choral work. The composer and poet were called for in vain. Neither was present.” Nielsen had in fact explained a few days earlier that he was not feeling up to travelling to Odense. Most reviewers agreed that the work had not been performed in the right venue. N.O. Raasted, writing for a local newspaper Fyns Tidende was frank: “So light and graceful, so witty and veiled is the language spoken here that several of the work’s beautiful passages could only be lost in a performance under such circumstances! We look forward to hearing it all again in the not too distant future if the work can be presented in circumstances that are more favorable to its appreciation.”

Another local newspaper Fyens Stiftstidende commented on the work’s regional tone: “There was the greatest interest in the next item in the concert, Aage Berntsen’s and Carl Nielsen’s never-before-performed work for soloists, choir and orchestra, Springtime on Funen. Rarely have a poet and composer been so fortunate in finding the fullest expression of the distinctive atmosphere and emotional life of a Danish region. The Funen islanders totally lack the capacity to take themselves too seriously. As true sons of the Funen soil, Berntsen and Carl Nielsen have therefore made Springtime on Funen a humoresque; but no less distinctively, the humoresque bears the stamp of the lyrical, for among the Danes the people of Funen remain those who abandon themselves most easily to the play of the emotions.”

In the meantime, Nielsen was planning his own performance of the work at the Music Society (Musikforeningen) in Copenhagen. In a letter dated June 29, 1922 to the composer Rudolf Simonsen, he describes how he would like it performed under his own baton: “III myself: Springtime on Funen small orchestra: light and gay and graceful as my humble talents can manage.” The work was indeed presented by the Music Society at the first concert of the season on November 21, 1922.

Axel Kjærulf, writing in Politiken, was full of praise for the work: “It is enchantingly formed, so light and bright, so full and fertile, so simple and inward. In each strophe one recognizes Carl Nielsen’s Danish tone, but here sweeter and truer than before. He is intimate with everything — and the rest of us get as close as possible to this often so inaccessible man — and grow fond of him.”

Music

Fynsk Foraar is often considered Nielsen’s most popular choral work, especially in Denmark. Nielsen gave it the subtitle “lyric humoresque”, aptly describing its simple, folk-like idiom and its compact form. Scored for a four-part chorus, soprano, tenor, and baritone soloists, a children’s chorus and a small chamber orchestra, the 18-minute cantata consists of several independent sections tied together with orchestral transitions. The choral writing is largely diatonic and homophonic. The solo melodies contain frequent alternations between major and minor tonalities.

This work is often cited as the most Danish of all Nielsen’s compositions; this seems borne out as the chorus and soloists extol a countryside replete with grass, water lilies, and gnarled apple trees blooming.

 

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“Interrupting his work on the Fifth Symphony in 1921 Nielsen turned (fulfilling a promise he had given) to lighter things in Springtime on Fyn (Fynsk Foraar); this he called a ‘Lyric Humoresque.’ One could not imagine him, like Benjamin Britten, calling such a work a ‘Spring Symphony’; he took the symphony too seriously and mastered it too powerfully to use its name pretentiously: the sub-title ‘Lyric Humoresque’ is in this case a precise description of the work, as it would be of Britten’s. This is one of the most Danish of all Nielsen’s works, and it recaptures all the charm and fascination of that sunny childhood he described so perfectly in My Childhood on Fyn …: the musical idiom is the simplest imaginable, folk-like and gay, picturing his own native environment with the kind of truthfulness and subtlety that come only from real vitality, however modest the aims. Danish as this work is it would, with a simple translation of the rustic and touching words by Aage Berntsen, easily find its way into English hearts. It is scored for moderate resources, four-part chorus, soprano, tenor, and baritone soloists, children’s chorus, and a small orchestra without trombones—ideal, in fact, for the reasonably well-developed amateur musical society; at the same time, its gaiety and poetry are such that a first-class professional performance must inevitably reveal it as an exquisite work of art.”

— Robert Simpson, Carl Nielsen: Symphonist (New York: Taplinger Publishing Company, 1979)

thoughts about Charles Ives (and Copland, Barber, and Gershwin) … plus thoughts about making lists of favorites (and making such judgments in general)

 

On Sunday, February 25, I attended a performance of Charles Ives’s Symphony No. 2 by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at Carnegie Hall.

The program notes for the concert read as follows:

Charles Ives is widely recognized as the first authentically American composer. The supreme collagist in music, Ives is perhaps most appropriately described by piling on words the way he piles on tunes. Composer Lou Harrison, rejoicing in Ives’s “bewildering munificence,” has written: “There is very nearly something for everyone in Ives — rousing band marches for the athletic extrovert, sweet prayers for the pious, amazing constructs for the intellectual … big-sized pieces, minute works, vulgar ones, polite ones, serious, funny, bland, tortuous, affectionate, and business­like ones, ones for the many, ones for the few, and some in between, and so on, and whatnot else … Plainly he was a man who loved many things much.”

Ives’s multiplicity is evident in every aspect of his life and art. An insurance man who composed at night, Ives was almost totally isolated from the musical establishment. He was a passionate nationalist who based his music on traditional American tunes and his metaphysics on Emersonian transcendentalism. Yet, with the help of his father (a small-town bandleader), he inaugurated the most daring kinds of polyrhythmic, polytonal, and aleatory effects. Indeed, his international significance stretches beyond music. As poet and short-story writer Guy Davenport puts it, “Ives aligns with the most significant art of this time: with Pound and Eliot in the reuse of extant compositions, with Joyce in the hermetic diffusion of symbolism throughout a work, with Picasso in exploring the possibilities of extending forms and techniques.”

Like Joyce, Ives aspires to the abstract and the visionary, yet is rooted in the homely and the everyday. Pierre Boulez pointed out that Ives is distinct from other musical innovators in that “the origin of his music, of his invention, is to be found in the surroundings of his life” rather than in a symphonic tradition. Prior to Ives, there was no American tradition in symphonic music; there was nothing to extend or rebel against — only a pallid recycling of European Romanticism. (Even the New Orleans syncopations of Louis Moreau Gottschalk were more popular in Europe than America.) For his inspiration, Ives went directly to the hymns, popular tunes, and band marches from his boyhood in Danbury, Connecticut, transforming these simple sources into a complex mélange.

Ives once called his most ambitious works “ear­stretchers,” and given the stretch that is required, it is not surprising that he has always incited controversy and bewilderment. Many of his most visionary works had to wait half a century for a performance because musicians hadn’t the slightest idea what to make of them.

 

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A few phrases leaped out at me: “the first authentically American composer”; “a passionate nationalist who based his music on traditional American tunes and his metaphysics on Emersonian transcendentalism”; “Ives aspires to the abstract and the visionary, yet is rooted in the homely and the everyday”; “the origin of his music, of his invention, is to be found in the surroundings of his life.”

Another daring innovator, a visionary poet, whom these words call to mind is Walt Whitman. I feel that Ives, an American original, is much like Whitman (who, by the way, was also influenced, deeply, by transcendentalism).

I am less inclined — this is probably a shortcoming on my part in comprehension — to think of Ives (as does Guy Davenport) in connection with Joyce, Eliot, and Pound, let alone Picasso.

 

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Another quintessentially American composer — by which I mean not only an American native but also a composer of works unmistakably American — is, of course, Aaron Copland. I regard Copland as the greatest American composer. Copland was an early champion of Ives’s music. If for no other reason, I would say that Copland outranks Ives because the latter’s output was comparatively meager.

The greatest single WORK by an American composer? I will take a stab at answering the question and say Porgy and Bess.

 

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A DIGRESSION

 

I had a lively exchange with a follower of this blog recently. He wrote as follows:

How do you rank classical composers?

Yes, some are timeless — Mozart, Beethoven, Bach — but how would you rank Nielsen vs. Sibelius, Copland vs. Chopin, Brahms vs. Roger Sessions? Or even Bach vs. Mozart or Beethoven?

And why bother? What one likes is important. I’ve always objected to someone who says this author or this composer is overrated, etc. Compared to what, and why? And overrated by whom?

 

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I answered as follows:

My answer would be yes and no.

I generally don’t like ratings and usually disagree with them (what are the 10 greatest American films?).

But to say someone is overrated (I might say, for example, Hemingway, but I know there would be lots of disagreement) or underrated (e.g., Haydn, in my opinion) is entirely valid; people often make such judgments — it’s a matter of making comparisons.

What’s wrong with that? One is always enjoying works of art for their own sake and, at the same time, engaging in armchair criticism.

So, I recently heard a piece of Max Bruch’s in concert and was pleasantly surprised; he reminded me of Brahms. But I am not prepared to say that he outranks Brahms.

I am always compiling inventories and laundry lists in my mind; it’s a good way mentally to keep track of writers, composers, etc. and their works. I FEEL THAT THIS IS KEY.

So, I get into Carl Nielsen, and think: how does he compare to Sibelius? People are still arguing about Tolstoy vs. Dostoevsky.

 

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to which the follower of my blog replied:

I am not saying you shouldn’t rate composers yourself, or authors, or whatever. And I enjoy discussions such as Chopin vs. Schubert.

I’m just saying that when you say that someone is overrated, I say by whom? If you are saying that you believe that x is better than y, or more interesting than y, that’s fine. If you’re ranking your opinion of Nielsen vs. Sibelius, that I understand.

But if you’re saying that the world knows that one is better than the other (either way), I say on what authority is this statement made?

That’s my only point here. And maybe that people waste their time arguing things like Tolstoy vs. Dostoevsky. They were both great writers and I don’t give a damn if someone thinks that one is marginally better than the other.

 

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Our email exchange ended there. But, I think it does make a great deal of difference whom one thinks is better: Tolstoy or Dostoevsky. We are usually not talking about marginal differences — some people actually like one and dislike the other. I know of lovers of Tolstoy’s works who can’t bring themselves to read Dostoevsky.

The point is that such comparisons can be trivial or frivolous, but not necessarily so. There is an inner critic in the brains of aesthetes. So that, experiencing a work of art — literature or music, in this case — they are not only “submitting” to it, allowing themselves to enjoy and be edified by the work, they are also asking themselves what they think of it. This is a good thing. And, by applying one’s own standards, which, needless to say, are subjective, one is making a mental inventory for future reference. So, for example — as a person immersed in literature and music — I have developed a mental map to help orient myself. I have my likes and dislikes. And, I make comparisons: Bruch reminds me of Brahms, Schumann as well. (Whitman reminds me of no one else!) I think that Thomas Wolfe is far superior to Theodore Dreiser. And, so on.

 

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I have posted here (below) some of my favorite pieces by composers whom I regard as quintessentially American.

 

three songs by CHARLES IVES

Charles Ives, “A Christmas Carol”

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/charles-ives-a-christmas-carol.mp3?_=2

Charles Ives, “Memories”

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/charles-ives-memories.mp3?_=3

 

Charles Ives, “In the Mornin’ (Give me Jesus)”

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/charles-ives-in-the-mornin-give-me-jesus.mp3?_=4

 

CHARLES IVES

“The Circus Band” (sung by Sara Dell’Omo, soprano)

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/charles-ives-the-circus-band-sara-dellomo.mp3?_=5

 

CHARLES IVES

string quartet no. 1

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/1.mp3?_=6 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/2.mp3?_=7 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/3.mp3?_=8 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/4.mp3?_=9

 

AARON COPLAND

from The Tender Land (opera)

The opening bars are posted here.

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/01-the-tender-land-opera.mp3?_=10 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/02-the-tender-land-opera.mp3?_=11

 

AARON COPLAND

“Morning on the Ranch” (from the Red Pony Suite)

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/aaron-copland-morning-on-the-ranch.mp3?_=12

 

AARON COPLAND

“Letter from Home”

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/aaron-copland-letter-from-home.mp3?_=13

 

AARON COPLAND

“Quiet City”

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/aaron-copland-quiet-city-bernstein.mp3?_=14

 

SAMUEL BARBER

Adagio for Strings

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/samuel-barber-adagio-for-strings.mp3?_=15

 

SAMUEL BARBER

Knoxville, Summer 1915

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/samuel-barber-knoxville-summer-1915.mp3?_=16

 

PORGY AND BESS

Also posted here is a recording of the film score of George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. For a long time, the LP was out of print. In my opinion, the soundtrack album is outstanding for its arrangements and orchestration.

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/1-porgy-and-bess.mp3?_=17 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/2-porgy-and-bess.mp3?_=18

 

— posted by Roger W. Smith

   February 2018

songs from “Rosseter’s Book of Ayres”

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/part-1-thomas-campion-9-songs-from-rosseters-book-of-ayres.mp3?_=19

 

Posted here nine songs for voice and lute from “Rosseter’s Book of Ayres,” a songbook by Philip Rosseter and Thomas Campion. No one seems to know for certain who wrote the lyrics. It was probably one of the composers, or both.

Philip Rosseter (1568-1623) was an English composer and musician, as well as a theatrical manager. Thomas Campion (1567-1620) was an English composer, poet, and physician.

I love these renditions, which were on an LP I purchased around 1964 in my college’s bookstore. The LP is rare and hard to obtain now. It was on a German label, Arkiv. The company was then devoted to producing recordings of historically accurate performances.

The songs and the lyrics (which are very clear) charm me. Tip for would be listeners: the songs are about wooing (a pastime once very much in fashion).

 

Complete lyrics are posted here as a Word document.

my sweetest Lesbia

 

— posted by Roger W. Smith

   February 2018

“The Green Leaves of Summer”

 

My favorite Sarah Vaughan song — of a great many — is “The Green Leaves of Summer,” which is on YouTube at

 

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I absolutely love the singing and the voice of famous jazz singer Sarah Vaughan (1924-1990).

Some find her songs to be treacly. There seems to be something to this criticism — as it applies to some, but by no means all, of her songs — but I love her nonetheless.

It is my nonprofessional opinion that her deep, rich voice cannot be equaled.

Regarding the lyrics of the song, below, I have interpolated my own comments on what they mean. Many readers of this post will say, does he think I can’t read? I don’t need to have the lyrics interpreted for me.

I have interpolated comments nevertheless — for the sale of the many foreign readers of this post who may not be familiar with English jargon.

By the way, I think that the “The Green Leaves of Summer” is a great song.

 

— Roger W. Smith

   February 2018

 

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Addendum: To see how a group can mess up a great, sentimental song such as this one, listen to the version by The Springfields (at the same YouTube link). This version is treacly, and the arrangement stinks.

 

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The Green Leaves of Summer

Woo, woo,
A time to be reaping [reap: to harvest crops]
A time to be sowing [sow: to plant crops]
The green leaves of summer [tree leaves; green in summer; change color in fall, fall off trees in winter]

Are calling me home
Twas so good to be young then [“Twas”: it was]
In the season of plenty [season of plenty; things were growing in abundance; the earth was fertile, like a woman]
When the catfish were jumping [catfish: fresh water fish; jumping — the fish are so plentiful they jump out of the water; times are good]

As high as the sky [the fish jump as high as the sky]
A time just for planting [time for planting seeds]
A time just for ploughing [a tractor plows the earth to make it ready for planting]
A time to be courting [it’s also the time for “courting,” finding a mate, love; everything is pregnant, ripe]

A girl of your own
Twas so good to be young then [it was good to be young and full of energy and spirits at that time]
To be close to the earth [good to be in close to the earth; one feels it in summertime, and when one is young, one’s body feels full of vigor]
And to stand by your wife [to bond and to have a love object]

At the moment of birth, woo [the earth is producing food; the wife is giving birth]
A time to be reaping [reap: harvest]
A time to be sowing [sow: plant, not only seeds to grow in earth, but also make babies]
A time just for living [the joy of just plain being ALIVE]

A place for to die [the lyrics are the words of someone at end of life recalling the summer days of his young manhood]
Twas so good to be young then
To be close to the earth
Now the green leaves of summer
Are calling me home [“home,” meaning to return to the earth and be buried]

Twas so good to be young then
To be close to the earth
Now the green leaves of summer
Are calling me home

“The Holy City”

 

Stephen Hero excerpt

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/the-holy-city.mp3?_=20

 

“The Holy City”

music by Stephen Adams

words by Frederick E. Weatherly

 

Last night I lay a-sleeping
There came a dream so fair,
I stood in old Jerusalem
Beside the temple there.
I heard the children singing,
And ever as they sang
Methought the voice of angels
From heaven in answer rang,
Methought the voice of angels
From heaven in answer rang.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Lift up your gates and sing,
Hosanna in the highest!
Hosanna to your King!

And then methought my dream was changed,
The streets no longer rang.
Hushed were the glad Hosannas
The little children sang.
The sun grew dark with mystery,
The morn was cold and chill,
As the shadow of a cross arose
Upon a lonely hill,
As the shadow of a cross arose
Upon a lonely hill.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Hark! How the angels sing,
Hosanna in the highest!
Hosanna to your King!

And once again the scene was changed,
New earth there seemed to be.
I saw the Holy City
Beside the tideless sea.
The light of God was on its streets,
The gates were open wide,
And all who would might enter,
And no one was denied.
No need of moon or stars by night,
Or sun to shine by day;

It was the new Jerusalem
That would not pass away,
It was the new Jerusalem
That would not pass away.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Sing for the night is o’er!
Hosanna in the highest!
Hosanna forevermore!

 

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“The Holy City” is a religious Victorian ballad dating from 1892, with music by Michael Maybrick, writing under the alias Stephen Adams, and lyrics by Frederic Weatherly.

The song is mentioned in James Joyce’s Stephen Hero and in Joyce’s Ulysses. It “is first alluded to in Joyce’s early abortive novel Stephen Hero, where Father Moran advises Stephen to learn the song. It assumes major significance, however, in the Circe chapter of Ulysses, where Bloom fantasizes about becoming the leader of a new celestial golden city, the “new Bloomusalem.” As Bella Cohen’s gramophone blares out the song, Bloom’s great edifice is erected and we get a comic parody look at what the new city of Dublin would be like under Bloom as an all-supreme ruler (from CD liner notes, contributed by Prof. Zack Bowen).

See above for excerpt from Stephen Hero.

 

— posted by Roger W. Smith

  February 2018; updated May 2025

Carl Nielsen, “Helios Overture”

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/carl-nielsen-helios-overture-op-17-lance-friedel.mp3?_=21

 

Posted here is the Helios Overture by the Danish composer Carl Nielsen. The Helios Overture, Opus 17, is a concert overture which was first performed in Copenhagen in 1903.

A Wikipedia entry provides background information about the piece.

Carl Nielsen wrote many short orchestral works, one of the most famous being the Helios Overture.

In 1902, Nielsen signed a contract with the publisher Wilhelm Hansen which allowed him to go to Athens, Greece to join his wife, Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen, who was one of the first sculptors allowed to make copies of the bas-reliefs and statues in the Acropolis Museum.

Anne Marie was studying Greek art, while Nielsen, being a man of many interests, was interested in archaeology. The local conservatory placed a study room with a piano at Carl Nielsen’s disposal. Here he could sit and compose when he was not on excursions in the surrounding mountains with or without Anne Marie.

Nielsen’s stay in Athens gave him the inspiration of a work depicting the sun rising and setting over the Aegean Sea, an overture which he called Helios. He began work on it in March 1903 and finished it on April 23 of the same year.

The score is written for three flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, and strings.

The work begins as the sun ascends over the Aegean Sea, while strings, divided horns and woodwind sound a melody. This rises out of the darkness to a full orchestra, where fanfaring trumpets begin a striding theme, which returns later in the piece. From there woodwinds begin a graceful tune, from which brass sound. Strings begin to play, which draws the orchestra into a reprise of the striding theme and its fanfare. In the final measures, the music subsides as the sun sinks over the horizon of the sea.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helios_Overture

On the score, Nielsen wrote:

“Silence and darkness,
The sun rises with a joyous song of praise,
It wanders its golden way
and sinks quietly into the sea.”

 

— Roger W. Smith

   January 2018

 

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See also:

Haydn, symphony No. 6 in D major (“Le matin”)

Haydn, symphony No. 6 in D major (“Le matin”)

 

Carl Nielsen in 1901

Agnus Dei from Haydn’s Missa in tempore belli

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/haydn-agnus-dei-from-mass-in-time-of-war.mp3?_=22

 

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

Note: if the Agnus Dei appears to end abruptly, that is because, in the mass, the next and final section, Dona nobis pacem, follows without interruption.

 

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Some people seem to think that the composer Joseph Haydn is almost dated and that his music is best suited for the era of waistcoats and breeches, petticoats, buckles, and silk stockings.

I beg to differ.

Listen to the Agnus Dei from Haydn’s Missa in tempore belli.

The Missa in tempore belli (Mass in Time of War), in C major, is also known also as the Paukenmesse (kettledrum mass) due to the dramatic use of timpani. It was first performed on December 26, 1796 in the Piarist Church of Maria Treu in Vienna. The autographed manuscript contains the title “Missa in tempore belli” in Haydn’s handwriting.

 

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From Wikipedia:

Haydn composed this mass at Eisenstadt in August 1796, at the time of Austria’s general mobilization into war. Four years into the European war that followed the French Revolution, Austrian troops were doing badly against the French in Italy and Germany, and Austria feared invasion. Reflecting the troubled mood of his time, Haydn integrated references to battle in the Benedictus and Agnus Dei movements.

Haydn was a deeply religious man, who appended the words “Praise be to God” at the end of every completed score. As Kapellmeister to the Prince Nikolaus II Esterházy, Haydn’s principal duty in the last period of his life, beginning in 1796, was the composition of an annual mass to honor the name day of Prince Nicholas’ wife, Princess Maria Hermenegild, 8 September, the birth of the Blessed Virgin. In a final flowering of his genius, he faithfully completed six magnificent masses (with increasingly larger orchestras) for this occasion. Thus, Missa in Tempore Belli was performed at the family church, the Bergkirche, at Eisenstadt on 29 September 1797. Haydn also composed his oratorio The Creation around the same time and the two great works share some of his signature vitality and tone-painting.

This piece has been long thought to express an anti-war sentiment, even though there is no explicit message in the text itself, and no clear indication from Haydn that this was his intention. What is found in the score is a very unsettled nature to the music, not normally associated with Haydn, which has led scholars to the conclusion that it is anti-war in nature. This is especially noticed in the Benedictus and Agnus Dei. During the time of the composition of the Mass, the Austrian government had issued a decree in 1796, that “no Austrian should speak of peace until the enemy is driven back to its customary borders.” …

[A] sense of anxiety and foreboding continues with ominous drumbeats and wind fanfares in the Agnus Dei, which opens with minor-key timpani strokes (hence the German nickname, Paukenmesse), perhaps fate itself, knocking seemingly from the depths. This foreshadows the timpani-catalyzed drama of the Agnus Dei in Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis. The music brightens with trumpet fanfares, ending with an almost dance-like entreaty and celebration of peace, “Dona nobis pacem” (Give us peace).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missa_in_tempore_belli

 

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the whole mass

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/01-Kyrie.mp3?_=23 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/02-Gloria-in-excelsis-Deo.mp3?_=24 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/03-Qui-tollis.mp3?_=25 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/04-Quoniam-Tu-solu-Sanctus.mp3?_=26 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/05-Credo-Credo-in-unum-Deum.mp3?_=27 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/06-Et-incarnatus-est.mp3?_=28 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/07-Et-resurrexit.mp3?_=29 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/08-Et-vitam-aeternam.mp3?_=30 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/09-Sanctus.mp3?_=31 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/10-Benedictus.mp3?_=32 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/11-Agnus-Dei.mp3?_=33 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/12-Dona-nobis-pacem.mp3?_=34

 

posted by Roger W. Smith

   January 2018

Haydn, symphony No. 6 in D major (“Le matin”)

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/haydn-symph-6-le-matin-vienna-chamber-orch-litschauer.mp3?_=35

 

This splendid symphony starts out — in the first movement, which is marked “Adagio – Allegro” — so quietly you can barely hear it.

The reason: the sun is rising! (Which is why the symphony is nicknamed “Le matin.”)

The music increases in volume as the sun “rises.”

I was intrigued to learn from a biography of Haydn which I read a long time ago that he grew up in rather humble circumstances and that he must have known and appreciated nature from boyhood.

I don’t think Haydn — great and prolific as he was, as admired as he was and is by his contemporaries and by music historians and connoisseurs — gets enough credit or attention nowadays. He practically invented the symphony and the string quartet. In his later years, he wrote splendid masses and oratorios, having been inspired by the example of Handel.

 

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Also posted here is “In vollem Glanze steiget jetzt die Sonne strahlend auf” (In splendor bright is rising now the sun) from Haydn’s monumental oratorio Die Schöpfung (The Creation). This section starts out with the same musical depiction of the sun rising in splendor.

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/01-13-part-1-scene-4-in-splendour-brig.mp3?_=36

 

 

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See also my posts of three of Haydn’s masses at:

Haydn, “Mass in Time of War”

Haydn, “Schöpfungsmesse” (Creation Mass)

Haydn, “Theresienmesse” (mass in B flat major)

 

— Roger W. Smith

   December 2017

on hearing Brahms’s Requiem; views on death

 

on hearing Brahms’s Requiem; views on death

by Roger W. Smith

On Monday, November 6, 2017, I attended a performance of A German Requiem, to Words of the Holy Scriptures (“Ein deutsches Requiem, nach Worten der heiligen Schrift”) by Johannes Brahms at Carnegie Hall in New York. The work was composed between 1865 and 1868 and consists of seven movements. The work is, as noted in a Wikipedia entry, “sacred but non-liturgical,” which can be seen in the fact that it is not in Latin and is not based on the Latin mass.

The program notes state:

Unlike the traditional Requiem, a prayer for the dead, Ein deutsches Requiem speaks to the mourners, comforting them and reminding them that the inevitability of death makes it a part of life. … Bypassing the traditional prayers for the dead, Brahms selected his text from the German Lutheran Bible and the Apocrypha. In so doing, he expressed his own feelings toward death, which were not governed by a formal sense of religion. Ein deutsches Requiem focuses on the needs of the living — Brahms had considered calling it a “human” requiem — on the brevity of life and the expectation of “evige Freude,” eternal joy.

This brought to mind other famous requiems, namely Mozart’s and Berlioz’s requiems. Both use the traditional liturgy and, what is most notable, both are masses for the DEAD. They are solemn, mournful — without, I would say, a hint of joy, and, in the case of the Berlioz requiem (which is a masterpiece), I would say, scary, almost terrifying.

I could not help thinking also about the parallels with Walt Whitman and his views of death. Below are some excerpts from the text of the Brahms requiem and some observations about Whitman’s views on death and excerpts from his poems.

 

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EIN DEUTSCHES REQUIEM (TEXT)

Selig sind, die da Leid tragen, denn sie sollen getröstet werden. (Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.) – Matthew 5:4

Die mit Tränen säen, werden mit Freuden ernten. Sie gehen hin und weinen und tragen edlen Samen, und kommen mit Freuden und bringen ihre Garben. (They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.) – Psalm 126:5,6

Denn alles Fleisch ist wie Gras und alle Herrlichkeit des Menschen wie des Grases Blumen. Das Gras ist verdorret und die Blume abgefallen. (For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.) – 1 Peter 1:24

Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit; aber ich will euch wieder sehen und euer Herz soll sich freuen und eure Freude soll neimand von euch nehmen. (And ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.) – John 16:22

Ich will euch trösten, wie Einen seine Mutter tröstet. (As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.) – Isaiah 66:13

Siehe, ich sage euch ein Geheimnis: Wir werden nicht alle entschlafen, wir werden aber alle verwandelt werden; und dasselbige plötzlich, in einem Augenblick, zu der Zeit der letzten Posaune. Denn es wird die Posaune schallen, und die Toten wervandelt werden. Dann wird erfüllet werden das Wort, das geschrieben steht: Der Tod is verschlungen in den Sieg. Tod, wo ist dein Stachel? Hölle, wo ist dein Sieg? (Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed … then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is they sting? O grave, where is they victory?) – 1 Corinthians 15:51, 52, 54, 55

 

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WALT WHITMAN ON DEATH; COMMENTARY

Walt Whitman is a great poet of the joys of life, but he is equally a great poet of death. Few poets have been immersed in the mystery of death or lived so close to death as he did. Fewer still have treated death with such an eloquent voice or created such an awesome persona. Death is a major component of the richness and variety of Leaves of Grass. …. Whitman’s poetry illustrates the universal truth that death is not only the most overwhelming and the least understood event of our existence but also the most intriguing. He realized from the outset of his poetic career that if his poetry were to reflect the essence and scope of our life experiences — and those of his own life — it must speak of death openly, imaginatively, and unswayed by clichés or established doctrines. He became a sensitive student of death and dying, familiar with disease, anguish, violence, and the displays of both fear and courage among the many dying persons he observed.

“Death is a vital part of [Whitman’s]s gospel of universal brotherhood and sisterhood, of his luminous vision of the progressive unfolding of the human race … and of his profound spirituality. And it is a vital element in the yearning for love that permeates the poems. … He viewed death as an eternal and benign mystery. … At times his poems treat death gladly, as if to embrace it; at times they treat it quizzically.

Throughout Leaves of Grass he proclaimed his faith that death was not a plunge into the terminal nada and was convinced that we can live our life fully only if we are prepared to welcome death as a transition in a continued, but still mysterious, process of spiritual evolution. Underlying this conviction was his belief that death promises some kind of future continuity for everyone—and particularly for himself. And, as the poems reveal, this belief did not come easily but was part of a trying personal and ideological struggle. Moreover, he felt that a profound respect for death was fundamental to his aesthetic and to all great art. … [Whitman’s] “Song of Myself” contains some of the most affecting death scenes in all poetry. — Harold Aspiz, So Long! Walt Whitman’s Poetry of Death (The University of Alabama Press, 2004)

Whitman had an intimate acquaintance of death as a volunteer nurse in Civil War hospitals. — Roger W. Smith

From the beginning Whitman seems to have recognized his ability to comfort the ailing immigrants and later the hospitalized horse-car drivers and injured firemen and soldiers by speaking with them in the humble manner that characterized his — and their — humble origins and by entering into their mode of thinking. — Harold Aspiz, So Long! Walt Whitman’s Poetry of Death

 

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WALT WHITMAN ON DEATH (QUOTATIONS FROM HIS WORKS)

The grave—the grave—what foolish man calls it a dreadful place? It is a kind friend, whose arms shall compass us round about, and while we lay our heads upon his bosom, no care, temptation, nor corroding passion shall have power to disturb us. Then the weary spirit shall no more be weary; the aching head and aching heart will be strangers to pain; and the soul that has fretted and sorrowed away its little life on earth will sorrow not any more.

I do not dread the grave. There is many a time when I could lay down, and pass my immortal part through the valley of the shadow, as composedly as I quaff water after a tiresome walk. For what is there of terror in taking our rest? What is there here below to draw us with such fondness? Life is the running of a race—a most weary race, sometimes. Shall we fear the goal, merely because it is shrouded in a cloud?

– “The Tomb-Blossoms,” The United States Magazine and Democratic Review, January 1842

 

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Leaves of Grass

 

I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter’s
compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child’s carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.

Leaves of Grass

[A carlacue (variant of curlicue) is a fancifully curved or spiral figure.]

 

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged,
Missing me one place, search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Leaves of Grass

 

If all came but to ashes of dung,
If maggots and rats ended us, then Alarum! for we are betray’d,
Then indeed suspicion of death.

Do you suspect death? if I were to suspect death I should die now,
Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward annihilation?

Leaves of Grass

 

Great is Death—sure as Life holds all parts together, Death holds all parts together,
Death has just as much purport as Life has,
Do you enjoy what Life confers? you shall enjoy what Death confers,
I do not understand the realities of Death, but I know they are great,
I do not understand the least reality of Life—how then can I understand the realities of Death?

Leaves of Grass

 

I do not know what follows the death of my body,
But I know well that whatever it is, it is best for me,
And I know well that what is really Me shall live just as much as before.

Leaves of Grass

 

O the beautiful touch of Death, soothing and benumbing a few moments, for reasons;
O that of myself, discharging my excrementitious body, to be burned, or rendered to powder, or buried,
My real body doubtless left to me for other spheres,
My voided body, nothing more to me, returning to the purifications, further offices, eternal uses of the earth.

Leaves of Grass

 

Whereto answering, the sea,
Delaying not, hurrying not,
Whisper’d me through the night, and very plainly before day-break,
Lisp’d to me the low and delicious [italic added] word death,
And again death, death, death, death,
Hissing melodious, neither like the bird nor like my arous’d child’s heart,
But edging near as privately for me rustling at my feet,
Creeping thence steadily up to my ears and laving me softly all over,
Death, death, death, death, death.

— “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking.”

 

And if the memorials of the dead were put up indifferently everywhere, even in the room where I
eat or sleep, I should be satisfied,
And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own corpse, be duly rendered to powder, and poured
in the sea, I shall be satisfied,
Or if it be distributed to the winds, I shall be satisfied.

Leaves of Grass

 

Death is beautiful from you, (what indeed is finally beautiful except death and love?)
O I think it is not for life I am chanting here my chant of lovers, I think it must be for death,
For how calm, how solemn it grows to ascend to the atmosphere of lovers,
Death or life I am then indifferent, my soul declines to prefer,
(I am not sure but the high soul of lovers welcomes death most,)
Indeed O death, I think now these leaves mean precisely the same as you mean.

Leaves of Grass

 

My dead absorb or South or North—my young men’s bodies absorb, and their precious precious blood,
Which holding in trust for me faithfully back again give me many a year hence,
In unseen essence and odor of surface and grass, centuries hence,
In blowing airs from the fields back again give me my darlings, give my immortal heroes,
Exhale me them centuries hence, breathe me their breath, let not an atom be lost,
O years and graves! O air and soil! O my dead, an aroma sweet!
Exhale them perennial sweet death, years, centuries hence.

Leaves of Grass

 

I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the debris and debris of all the slain soldiers of the war,
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer’d not,
The living remain’d and suffer’d, the mother suffer’d,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer’d,
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d.

– “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d”

 

I make a scene, a song, brief (not fear of thee,
Nor gloom’s ravines, nor bleak, nor dark—for I do not fear thee,
Nor celebrate the struggle, or contortion, or hard-tied knot),
Of the broad blessed light and perfect air, with meadows, rippling tides, and trees
and flowers and grass,
And the low hum of living breeze—and in the midst God’s beautiful eternal right hand,
Thee, holiest minister of Heaven—thee, envoy, usherer, guide at last of all,
Rich, florid, loosener of the stricture-knot call’d life,
Sweet, peaceful, welcome Death.

“Death’s Valley” (published in Harper’s Monthly Magazine, April 1892):

 

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MUSICAL EXAMPLES

 

Selig sind, die da Leid tragen (Blessed are they who bear suffering)

the opening of Ein deutsches Requiem

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/1-selig-sind-die-da-leid-tragen.mp3?_=37

 

Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras (For all flesh, it is as grass)

the second movement of Ein deutsches Requiem

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/2-denn-alles-fleisch-es-ist-wie-grasl.mp3?_=38

This extraordinarily powerful, lyrical movement never fails to move me. I had long thought that the lyrics must mean something like: Let’s face it, everyone is going to die; death and decay are inevitable. But the words from scripture are actually consoling:

Denn alles Fleisch ist wie Gras und alle Herrlichkeit des Menschen wie des Grases Blumen. Das Gras ist verdorret und die Blume abgefallen.

So seid nun geduldig, lieben Brüder, bis auf die Zukunft des Herrn. Siehe, ein Ackermann wartet auf die köstliche Frucht der Erde und is geduldig darüber, bis er empfahe den Morgenregen und Abendregen.

Aber des Herrn Wort bleibet in Ewigkeit.

Die Erlöseten des Herrn werden wieder kommen, und gen Zion kommen mit Jauchzen; ewige Freude wird über ihrem Haupte sein; Freude und Wonne werden sie ergreifen und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg müssen.

(For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.

Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandmen waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain.

But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.

Those whom the Lord delivers shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.)

 

The music perfectly matches these sentiments.

 

Introitus

from Mozart, Requiem in D minor, K. 626

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/1-introitus.mp3?_=39

 

Requiem aeternam and Kyrie

from Berlioz, Grande Messe des morts (or Requiem), Op. 5

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/1-kyrie1.mp3?_=40

 

Pie Jesu

from Gabriel Fauré, Requiem in D minor, Op. 48

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/4-pie-jesu.mp3?_=41

 

The focus of this “choral-orchestral setting of the shortened Catholic Mass for the Dead in Latin … is on eternal rest and consolation. … Fauré wrote of the work, ‘Everything I managed to entertain by way of religious illusion I put into my Requiem, which moreover is dominated from beginning to end by a very human feeling of faith in eternal rest.’ … He told an interviewer: ‘It has been said that my Requiem does not express the fear of death and someone has called it a lullaby of death. But it is thus that I see death: as a happy deliverance, an aspiration towards happiness above, rather than as a painful experience.’ (Wikipedia)

 

— posted by Roger W. Smith

   November 2017

Beethoven, Mass in C major, opus 86

 

https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/part-1.mp3?_=42 https://rogersgleanings.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/part-2.mp3?_=43

 

I am partial to Beethoven’s Mass in C major, opus 86. It is not as well known as Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis.

The rendition here is from an old LP of mine.

The Gloria is sublime. It occurs at a point about five minutes from beginning of the first track. Especially moving to me is the part of the text of the Gloria, rendered into music, consisting of the following words:

Gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam

Domine Deus, Rex coelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens. Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe. Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris.

Qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis. Qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe deprecationem nostram.

Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.

 

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Thanks we give to thee

because of thy great glory. Lord God, King of heaven,

God the Father almighty. Lord only begotten Son, Jesus Christ.

Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father.

Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

Who takest away the sins of  the world, receive our supplication.

Who sittest at the right hand of the Father, have mercy on us.

 

— Roger W. Smith

   October 2017