- A Song for Saint Cecilia's Day (1991, 2005) 3 sopranos, string quartet, harpsichord 22'
- Text: John Dryden (1687)
- Premiere—1993, by Maria Jette, Mary Therese Royal de Martinez and Karen Clift, sopranos; Barbara Weiss, harpsichord; Laurie Weiss and David Hays, violins; Romona Merritt, viola, Arek Tesarczyk, cello, Saint Paul, MN.
Program note
This mixed bag of voices and instruments was written for the Twin Cities-based ensemble, Concerto delle Donne, a band of virtuoso women recalling a similar band at the court of Ferrara four centuries ago. Dryden's famous ode to the patron saint of music was set in grand manner by Purcell and Handel. I haven't attempted to match the poem's musical imagery but to vary it; thus, the drum is suggested by harpsichord, flute by viola harmonics, organ by a cappella voices.
Text
I. Tutti
From harmony, from heav'nly harmony
This universal frame began:
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high:
"Arise, ye more than dead."
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Music's pow'r obey.
From harmony, from heav'nly harmony
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Thro' all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.
II. Soprano I and harpsichord
What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
When Jubal struck the corded shell,
His list'ning brethren stood around,
And, wond'ring, on their faces fell
To worship that celestial sound.
Less than a god they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell
That spoke so sweetly and so well.
What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
III. Tutti
The Trumpet's loud clangor
Excites us to arms,
With shrill notes of anger,
And mortal alarms.
The double double double beat
Of the thund'ring Drum
Cries: "Hark! the foes come;
Charge, charge, 't is too late to retreat."
IV. Soprano III, viola and cello
The soft complaining Flute
In dying notes discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers,
Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling Lute.
V. Sopranos I & II, cello & harpsichord
Sharp Violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs, and desperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,
Depth of pains, and height of passion,
For the fair, disdainful dame.
VI. Sopranos I, II, III
But O! what art can teach,
What human voice can reach,
The sacred Organ's praise?
Notes inspiring holy love,
Notes that wing their heav'nly ways
To mend the choirs above.
VII. Soprano II, strings and harpsichord
Orpheus could lead the savage race;
And trees unrooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre;
But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder high'r:
When to her Organ vocal breath was giv'n,
An angel heard, and straight appear'd,
Mistaking earth for heav'n.
GRAND CHORUS Tutti
As from the pow'r of sacred lays
The spheres began to move,
And sung the great Creator's praise
To all the blest above,
So, when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The Trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky.