Star Carol

by John Rutter

Sing this night, for a boy is born in Bethlehem,
Christ our Lord in a lowly manger lies;
Bring your gifts, come and worship at his cradle,
Hurry to Bethlehem and see the son of Mary!

Angels bright come from heaven's highest glory,
Bear the news with its message of good cheer:
'Sing, rejoice, for a King is come to save us'
Hurry to Bethlehem and see the son of Mary!

See his star shining bright
In the sky this Christmas Night!
Follow me joyfully;
Hurry to Bethlehem and see the son of Mary!

See, he lies in his mother's tender keeping;
Jesus Christ in her loving arms asleep.
Shepherds poor come to worship and adore him,
Offer their humble gifts before the son of Mary.

Let us all pay our homage at the manger,
Sing his praise on this joyful Christmas Night;
Christ is come, bringing promise of salvation;
Hurry to Bethlehem and see the son of Mary!

Maria durch ein Dornwald ging

Traditional

Maria durch ein Dornwald ging,
Kyrie eleison.
Maria durch ein Dornwald ging,
der hat in sieben Jahrn kein Laub getragen.
Jesus und Maria.

Was trug Maria unter ihrem Herzen?
Kyrie eleison.
Ein kleines Kindlein ohne Schmerzen,
das trug Maria unter ihrem Herzen.
Jesus und Maria.

Da haben die Dornen Rosen getragen,
Kyrie eleison.
Als das Kindlein durch den Wald getragen,
da haben die Dornen Rosen getragen.
Jesus und Maria.

O Thou That Hear'st When Sinners Cry

by Isaac Watts

O Thou that hear'st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before Thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their mem'ry from Thy book.

Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let Thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

I cannot live without Thy light
Cast out and banished from Thy sight:
Thine holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

Though I have grieved Thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort still afford;
And let a wretch come near Thy throne,
To plead the merits of Thy Son.

A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice.

My soul lies humbled in the dust,
And owns Thy dreadful sentence just:
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemned to die.

Then will I teach the world Thy ways;
Sinners shall learn Thy sovereign grace;
I'll lead them to my Savior's blood,
And they shall praise a pard'ning God.

O may Thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.

Intonent hodie

Traditional

Intonent hodie
Voces ecclesiae,
Dies laetitiae
Refulsit in mundo,
Ergo laetabundo
Corde iubilemus
Et ore iucundo.

Sanctus hic inclitus,
Domino subditus,
In cunis positus
Ubera vitabat,
Corpus macerabat,
Et ter in sabbato
Puer ieiunabat.

Parenti misero
Submerso puero
Mari pestifero
Dedit, quod petivit,
Preces exaudivit,
Submersum puerum
Patris custodivit.

Tribus virginibus
Victu carentibus
Reddidit honorera,
Subtraxit errorem,
Reddens virginibus
Virgineum florem.

Die selige Morgentraumdeut-Weise

by Richard Wagner

Morgenlich leuchtend im rosigen Schein,
von Blüt' und Duft
geschwellt die Luft,
voll aller Wonnen,
nie ersonnen,
ein Garten lud mich ein,
dort unter einem Wunderbaum,
von Früchten reich behangen,
zu schau'n in sel'gem Liebestraum,
was höchstem Lustverlangen.
Erfüllung kühn verhiess,
das schönste Weib:
Eva im Paradies!

Abendlich dämmernd umschloss mich die Nacht;
auf steilem Pfad
war ich genaht
zu einer Quelle
reiner Welle,
die lockend mir gelacht:
dort unter einem Lorbeerbaum,
von Sternen hell durchschienen,
ich schaut' im wachen Dichtertraum,
von heilig holden Mienen,
mich netzend mit dem edlen Nass,
das hehrste Weib,
die Muse des Parnass!

Huldreichster Tag,
dem ich aus Dichters Traum erwacht!
Das ich erträumt, das Paradies,
in himmlisch neu verklärter Pracht
hell vor mir lag,
dahin lachend nun der Quell den Pfad mir wies;
die, dort geboren,
mein Herz erkoren,
der Erde lieblichstes Bild,
als Muse mir geweiht,
so heilig hehr als mild,
ward kühn von mir gefreit,
am lichten Tag der Sonnen,
durch Sanges Sieg gewonnen
Parnass und Paradies!

El cant dels ocells

Traditional

Al veure despuntar
el major lluminar
en la nit més ditxosa,
els ocellets cantant,
a festejar-lo van
amb sa veu melindrosa.

L’àguila imperial
se’n vola cel adalt,
cantant amb melodia,
dient: Jesús és nat,
per treure’ns de pecat
i dar-nos alegria.

Repon-li lo pardal:
Avui, nit de Nadal,
és nit de gran contento!
El verdum i el lluer
diuen cantant, també :
"Oh, quina alegria sento!

Cantava el passerell :
Oh, que hermós i que bell
és l’infant de Maria!
I li respon el tord :
Vençuda n’és la mort,
ja naix la vida mia !

Refila el rossinyol :
És més bonic que el sol
més brillant que una estrella!
La cotxa i el bitxac
festegen al manyac
i a sa Mare donzella.

Cantava el reietó
per glòria del Senyor,
inflant amb biçarria;
el canari segueix:
llur música pareix
del Cel gran melodia.

Ja n’entra el cotoliu
dient: Ocells veniu
a festejar l’aurora!
I lo merlot, xiulant,
anava festejant
a la més gran Senyora.

L’estiverola diu:
No és hivern ni estiu
sinó que és primavera;
puix que és nada una flor
que pertot dóna olor
I omple la terra entera.

Cantava el francolí:
Ocells qui vol venir
avui a trenc de dia
a veure el gran Senyor
amb sa gran resplendor
a dins d’una establia?

Ve cantant el puput:
Eixa nit ha vingut
el Rei de més grandesa!
La tórtora i el colom
admiren a tothom
cantant sense tristesa.

Picots i borroners
volen entre els fruiters
cantant llurs alegries;
la guatlla i el cucut
de molt lluny han vingut
per contemplar el Messies.

Cantava la perdiu
Me’n vaig a fer lo niu
dins d’aquella establia,
per a veure l’Infant
com està tremolant
en braços de Maria.

La garsa, griva o gaig
diuen: Ara ve el maig!
Respon la cadernera:
Tot arbre reverdeix,
tota branca floreix
com si fos primavera.

Xiuxiueja el pinsà:
Glòria avui i demà;
sento gran alegria
de veure el diamant
tan hermós i brillant
als braços de Maria.

El xot i el mussol
al veure eixir el sol
confosos se retiren.
El gamarús i el duc
diuen: Mirar no puc;
tals resplendors m’admiren!

American Skin (41 Shots)

by Bruce Springsteen

41 shots and we'll take that ride
'Cross the bloody river
To the other side
41 shots cut through the night
You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule
Praying for his life

Is it a gun? Is it a knife?
Is it a wallet? This is your life
It ain't no secret
No secret, my friend
You can get killed just for living in your American skin

41 shots, Lena gets her son ready for school
She says, 'On these streets, Charles
'You've got to understand the rules
'If an officer stops you, promise me you'll always be polite
'And that you'll never ever run away
'Promise Mama you'll keep your hands in sight'

Is it a gun? Is it a knife?
Is it in your heart? Is it in your eyes?
It ain't no secret
No secret, my friend
You can get killed just for living in your American skin

41 shots and we'll take that ride
'Cross this bloody river
To the other side
41 shots, got my boots caked with this mud
We're baptized in these waters
And in each other's blood

Dormi Jesu

Anonymous

Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet
Quae tam dulcem somnum videt,
Dormi, Jesu! blandule!
Si non-dormis, Mater plorat,
Inter fila cantans orat,
Blande, veni, somnule.

Psalm 136

הודו ליהוה כי טוב כי לעולם חסדו ׃
הודו לאלהי האלהים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
הודו לאדני האדנים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לעשה נפלאות גדלות לבדו כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לעשה השמים בתבונה כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לרקע הארץ על המים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לעשה אורים גדלים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
את השמש לממשלת ביום כי לעולם חסדו ׃
את הירח וכוכבים לממשלות בלילה כי לעולם חסדו ׃
למכה מצרים בבכוריהם כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ויוצא ישראל מתוכם כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ביד חזקה ובזרוע נטויה כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לגזר ים סוף לגזרים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
והעביר ישראל בתוכו כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ונער פרעה וחילו בים סוף כי לעולם חסדו ׃
למוליך עמו במדבר כי לעולם חסדו ׃
למכה מלכים גדלים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ויהרג מלכים אדירים כי לעולם חסדו ׃
לסיחון מלך האמרי כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ולעוג מלך הבשן כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ונתן ארצם לנחלה כי לעולם חסדו ׃
נחלה לישראל עבדו כי לעולם חסדו ׃
שבשפלנו זכר לנו כי לעולם חסדו ׃
ויפרקנו מצרינו כי לעולם חסדו ׃
נתן לחם לכל בשר כי לעולם חסדו ׃
הודו לאל השמים כי לעולם חסדו ׃

Translation

On Language

by Stephen Fry

There's language, and there's speech. There's chess, and there's a game of chess. Imagine a piano keyboard: eighty-eight keys, only eighty-eight! And yet, hundreds of new melodies, new tunes, new harmonies are being composed upon hundreds of different keyboards every day in Dorset alone. Our language: hundreds of thousands of available words, frillions of legitimate new ideas, so that I can say this sentence and be utterly sure that nobody has ever said it before in the history of human communication: 'Hold the newsreader's nose squarely, waiter, or friendly milk will countermand my trousers.'

Perfectly ordinary words, but never before put in that precise order. A unique child delivered of a unique mother. And yet, oh and yet! we all of us spend our days saying the same things, time after weary time: 'I love you', 'Don't go in there', 'Get out', 'You have no right to say that', 'Stop it', 'Why should I?', 'That hurt', 'Help', 'Marjorie is dead'. That surely is a thought to take out for a cream tea on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Language is my mother, my father, my husband, my brother, my sister, my mistress, my checkout girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or a handy freshen-up wipette. Language is the breath of God. Language is the dew on a fresh apple. It's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning light as you pluck from an old bookshelf a half-forgotten book of erotic memoirs. Language is the creak on a stair. It's a sputtering match held to a frosted pane. It's a half-remembered childhood birthday party. It's the warm, wet trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl. It's cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot.

Language circumscribes beauty, confirms, confines, limns, and delineates; it colours and contains. Yet language is only a tool — a tool that we use to dig up the beauty that surrounds and is, we take, our only and absolute real. So I'm finding myself with some surprise and no little alarm hurling a paradox at you. Beauty is our only reality, and yet it is an ideal. It is the surface-tension of the membrane that stretches between us and the vision of beauty that language seeks to disperse, as a detergent might dissipate or dissolve a droplet of oil.

Let me explain, expound, expand, and exposit. I find you beautiful. But you are not beauty. Therefore you contain a property of beauty. Therefore the substance of which you exhibit a property must exist. Where is it? That is language's task.

Language pursues beauty, harries it, hounds it, courses it across the roughlands of enquiry and in so doing can itself be beautiful. Ripple on ripple, image on image, wheel within a wheel like the circles that we find in the windmills of our mind.

Language can be beautiful. 'And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.' Plenitude, dishes, martita, tumble, emolument, forage, smitten, plenum: words that have their own sonority and beauty which is extrinsic to their connotational or denotational referends.

So I'll leave you with a thought, a breath, a fruit that drops from the boughs of my imaginings. Think beauty, but be beautiful. Say beauty, but say it beautifully. Beauty is duty, and duty beauty. So there. Goodnight.

Back

by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

They ask me where I've been,
And what I've done and seen.
But what can I reply
Who know it wasn't I,
But someone just like me,
Who went across the sea
And with my head and hands
Killed men in foreign lands...
Though I must bear the blame,
Because he bore my name.

A Great Day for Freedom

by David Gilmour

On the day the wall came down
They threw the locks onto the ground
And with glasses high we raised a cry
For freedom had arrived

On the day the wall came down
The ship of fools had finally run aground
Promises lit up the night
Like paper doves in flight

Now life devalues day by day
As friends and neighbours turn away
And there's a change that, even with regret
Cannot be undone

Now frontiers shift like desert sands
While nations wash their bloodied hands
Of loyalty, of history
In shades of grey

The Dry Salvages (Pt. V)

[Pt. IV here]
by T.S. Eliot

To communicate with Mars, converse with spirits,
To report the behaviour of the sea monster,
Describe the horoscope, haruspicate or scry,
Observe disease in signatures, evoke
Biography from the wrinkles of the palm
And tragedy from fingers; release omens
By sortilege, or tea leaves, riddle the inevitable
With playing cards, fiddle with pentagrams
Or barbituric acids, or dissect
The recurrent image into pre-conscious terrors—
To explore the womb, or tomb, or dreams; all these are usual
Pastimes and drugs, and features of the press:
And always will be, some of them especially
When there is distress of nations and perplexity
Whether on the shores of Asia, or in the Edgware Road.
Men's curiosity searches past and future
And clings to that dimension. But to apprehend
The point of intersection of the timeless
With time, is an occupation for the saint—
No occupation either, but something given
And taken, in a lifetime's death in love,
Ardour and selflessness and self-surrender.
For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts. These are only hints and guesses,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.
Here the impossible union
Of spheres of existence is actual,
Here the past and future
Are conquered, and reconciled,
Where action were otherwise movement
Of that which is only moved
And has in it no source of movement—
Driven by daemonic, chthonic
Powers. And right action is freedom
From past and future also.
For most of us, this is the aim
Never here to be realised;
Who are only undefeated
Because we have gone on trying;
We, content at the last
If our temporal reversion nourish
(Not too far from the yew-tree)
The life of significant soil.

[Little Gidding here]

Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinem Wort

by Martin Luther

Erhalt uns, Herr, bei deinem Wort,
den Ketzern wehr, die Türken mord,
die Christum und die Kirchen schon
wollen stürzen von ihrem Thron.

Beweis dein Macht, Herr Jesu Christ,
dass du Herr aller Herren bist
beschirm dein arme Christenheit
dass sie dich lob in Ewigkeit.

Gott heiliger Geist, du Tröster wert,
erhalt dein Kirch in Fried auf Erd,
steh ihr bei, wann der Ketzer Rott
sie stürzen will in Angst und Not.

Abide with Me

by Henry F. Lyte

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;
But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea—
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with me.

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left thee,
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

How Firm a Foundation

by John Rippon

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent Word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
to you, who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

In every condition, in sickness, in health;
in poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth;
at home and abroad, on the land, on the sea,
as thy days may demand, shall thy strength ever be.

'Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,
for I am thy God and will still give thee aid;
I'll strengthen and help thee, and cause thee to stand
upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.'

'When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
the rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
for I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.'

'When through fiery trials thy pathways shall lie,
my grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply;
the flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.'

'E'en down to old age all my people shall prove
my sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love;
and when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn,
like lambs they shall still in my bosom be borne.'

'The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake.'

God, Be Merciful to Me

Anonymous, from The Psalter (1912)

God, be merciful to me,
on thy grace I rest my plea;
plenteous in compassion thou,
blot out my transgressions now;
wash me, make me pure within,
cleanse, O cleanse me from my sin.

My transgressions I confess,
grief and guilt my soul oppress;
I have sinned against thy grace
and provoked thee to thy face;
I confess thy judgment just,
speechless, I thy mercy trust.

I am evil, born in sin;
thou desirest truth within.
Thou alone my Saviour art,
teach thy wisdom to my heart;
make me pure, thy grace bestow,
wash me whiter than the snow.

Broken, humbled to the dust
by thy wrath and judgment just,
let my contrite heart rejoice
and in gladness hear thy voice;
from my sins O hide thy face,
blot them out in boundless grace.

Gracious God, my heart renew,
make my spirit right and true;
cast me not away from thee,
let thy Spirit dwell in me;
thy salvation's joy impart,
steadfast make my willing heart.

Sinners then shall learn from me
and return, O God, to thee;
Saviour, all my guilt remove,
and my tongue shall sing thy love;
touch my silent lips, O Lord,
and my mouth shall praise accord.

The Like in I Love You

by Scott Bennett

You reached into my heart
And found the music of my soul
The melodies unfold for you
I've never danced before
Until you asked me
Then magic lights lit up the floor

Gliding in a starlit sky
Until we found the inner light
Now we can duplicate the universe

The pain in painting
The muse in music
The like in I love you

When you connect the dots
I see your picture coming through
The story's always you
It's more than harmony
When you sing with me
It's an entire symphony

The great in grateful
The faith in faithful
The like in I love you

In the Hour of Not Quite Rain

by Micki Callen

In the hour of not quite rain
when the fog was fingertip high
The moon hung suspended
in a singular sky

Deeply and beyond seeing
not wishing to intrude
Bathed in its own reflection
the water mirrored the moon

The tumbling birds have now sobered
from the leaves of their nursery
Like shadowy, quiet children
watching sleepily

Anthem for Doomed Youth

by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
        —Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
        Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
        Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
        The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

See the Sky About to Rain

by Neil Young

See the sky about to rain
Broken clouds and rain
Locomotive, pull the train
Whistle blowing through my brain

Signals curling on an open plain
Rolling down the track again
See the sky about to rain

Some are bound for happiness
Some are bound to glory
Some are bound to live with less
Who can tell your story?

I was down in Dixie Land
Played a silver fiddle
Played it loud and then the man
Broke it down the middle
See the sky about to rain

Reelin' in the Years

by Donald Fagen

Your everlasting summer, and you can see it fading fast
So you grab a piece of something that you think is going to last
You wouldn't know a diamond if you held it in your hand
The things you think are precious, I can't understand

Are you reelin' in the years?
Stowin' away the time?
Are you gatherin' up the tears?
Have you had enough of mine?

You've been telling me you're a genius since you were seventeen
In all the time I've known you I still don't know what you mean
The weekend at the college didn't turn out like you planned
The things that pass for knowledge, I can't understand

I've spent a lot of money, and I've spent a lot of time
The trip we made to Hollywood is etched upon my mind
After all the things we've done and seen, you find another man
The things you think are useless, I can't understand

Love

by Sara Groves

Love, I made it mine
I made it small
I made it blind
I followed heart
Only to find
It wasn't love

Love of songs in pen
Love of movie endings
Takes out the break
Leaves out the bend
And misses love

Love not of you
Love not of me
Come hold us up
Come set us free
Not as we know it
But as it can be

Love's reality
Is not of passing bravery
It holds out hope
Beyond what's seen
The hope of love

The Dry Salvages (Pt. IV)

[Pt. III here]
by T.S. Eliot

Lady, whose shrine stands on the promontory,
Pray for all those who are in ships, those
Whose business has to do with fish, and
Those concerned with every lawful traffic
And those who conduct them.

Repeat a prayer also on behalf of
Women who have seen their sons or husbands
Setting forth, and not returning:
Figlia del tuo figlio,
Queen of Heaven.

Also pray for those who were in ships, and
Ended their voyage on the sand, in the sea's lips
Or in the dark throat which will not reject them
Or wherever cannot reach them the sound of the sea bell's
Perpetual angelus.

[Pt. V here]

I'll Be Your Mirror

by Lou Reed

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are
In case you don't know
I'll be the wind
The rain and the sunset
The light on your door
To show that you're home

When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands
'Cause I see you

I find it hard
To believe you don't know
The beauty you are
But if you don't
Let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness
So you won't be afraid

How Great Thou Art

by Carl G. Boberg
Trans. Stuart K. Hine

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in,
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then shall I bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, My God, how great thou art!

Moonlight in Vermont

by John Blackburn

Pennies in a stream
Falling leaves, a sycamore
Moonlight in Vermont

Icy finger waves
Ski trails on a mountain side
Snowlight in Vermont

Telegraph cables, they sing down the highway
And travel each bend in the road
People who meet in this romantic setting
Are so hypnotized by the lovely...

Evening summer breeze
Warbling of a meadowlark
Moonlight in Vermont

Cheek to Cheek

by Irving Berlin

Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

Oh, I love to climb a mountain
And to reach the highest peak
But it doesn't thrill me half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek

Oh, I love to go out fishing
In a river or a creek
But I don't enjoy it half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek

Dance with me
I want my arm about you
That charm about you
Will carry me through

To heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

After Blenheim

by Robert Southey

It was a summer evening,
  Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
  Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin
  Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet
  In playing there had found:
He came to ask what he had found
That was so large and smooth and round.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
  Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
  And with a natural sigh—
''Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he,
'Who fell in the great victory.

'I find them in the garden,
  For there's many here about;
And often when I go to plough
  The ploughshare turns them out.
For many thousand men,' said he,
'Were slain in that great victory.'

'Now tell us what 'twas all about,'
  Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
  With wonder-waiting eyes;
'Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for.'

'It was the English,' Kaspar cried,
  'Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other
  I could not well make out.
But everybody said,' quoth he,
'That 'twas a famous victory.

'My father lived at Blenheim then,
  Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
  And he was forced to fly:
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

'With fire and sword the country round
  Was wasted far and wide,
And many a childing mother then
  And newborn baby died:
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.

'They say it was a shocking sight
  After the field was won,
For many thousand bodies here
  Lay rotting in the sun;
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.

'Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
  And our good Prince Eugene'—
'Why 'twas a very wicked thing!'
  Said little Welhelmine;
'Nay—nay, my little girl,' quoth he,
'It was a famous victory.

'And everybody praised the Duke
  Who this great fight did win'—
'But what good came of it at last?'
  Quoth little Peterkin.
'Why that I cannot tell,' said he,
'But 'twas a famous victory.'

Supersonic

by Noel Gallagher

I need to be myself
I can't be no one else
I'm feeling supersonic, give me gin and tonic
You can have it all, but how much do you want it?

You make me laugh
Give me your autograph
Can I ride with you in your BMW
You can sail with me in my yellow submarine

You need to find out
'Cause no one's going to tell you what I'm on about
You need to find a way for what you want to say
But before tomorrow

'Cause my friend said he'd take you home
Sits in a corner all alone
He lives under a waterfall
Nobody can see him
Nobody can ever hear him call

You need to be yourself
You can't be no one else
I know a girl called Elsa, she's into Alka Seltzer
She sniffs it through a cane on a supersonic train

And she makes me laugh
I got her autograph
She done it with a doctor on a helicopter
She's sniffing in her tissue, selling the Big Issue

When she finds out
No one's going to tell her what I'm on about
You need to find a way for what you want to say
But before tomorrow

'Cause my friend said he'd take you home
Sits in a corner all alone
He lives under a waterfall
Nobody can see him
Nobody can ever hear him call

A Prayer in Spring

by Robert Frost

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.

Primer Coat

by Mike Cooley

The old man's out by the swimming pool
He goes there to think
He talks on the phone sometimes
Hardly mentions a thing
Said he needed it for his knees
He used to swim back in school
Graduated in '84
Quit drinking in '92

He used to call her a basket case
For hanging on like she did
The only girl of a foreman's wife
She'd never let him forget
It comes to women and they survive
But when the same comes to men
Someone comes for their babies
Something dies there and then

Slinging gravel in parking lots
And looking tough on the hood
A girl as plain as a primer coat
Leaves nothing misunderstood
Her mother and I through trembling lips
A steady hand on his own
The future of every rebel cause
When all the fight in him is gone

My sister's marrying in the spring
And everything will be fine
Mama's planning the wedding
Daddy's planning on crying
She's slipping out of her apron strings
You best leave him be
He's staring through his own taillights
And gathering speed

Country

by Paul Weller

I know a place not far from here
Where life's sweet perfume fills the air
And if you want I'll take you there
If you want I'll take you there

Into the light out of the dark
Where only love can heal your heart
And if you want I'll make a start
If you want I'll make a start

This place I say, half-hour away
Is that so far to go, so near?
And further on we'll find the time
And lose the discontent we feel

I feel the time we've yet to reach
Is not within our own belief
But I feel sure that time will come
If it goes on at all

I know a place not far from here
Where fresh cut grass will fill your hair
And if you want we'll lay a while there
If you want we'll lay a while there

Meet James Ensor

by John Flansburgh

Meet James Ensor
Belgium's famous painter
Dig him up and shake his hand
Appreciate the man

Before there were junk stores
Before there was junk
He lived with his mother
And the torments of Christ
The world was transformed
A crowd gathered round
Pressed against his window
So they could be the first

To meet James Ensor
Belgium's famous painter
Raise a glass and sit and stare
Understand the man

He lost all his friends
He didn't need his friends
He lived with his mother
And repeated himself
The world has forgotten
The world moved along
The crowd at his window
Went back to their homes

Meet James Ensor
Belgium's famous painter
Dig him up and shake his hand
Appreciate the man

Come As You Are

by Kurt Cobain

Come, as you are, as you were
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
As an old enemy
Take your time, hurry up
The choice is yours, don't be late
Take a rest, as a friend
As an old memory

Come, doused in mud, soaked in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend, as a friend
As an old memory

And I swear that I don't have a gun
No, I don't have a gun

All Future and No Past

by Steve Wynn

Spring is here, and the time is right
For unrealistic goals
Last summer some hit the bottom rung
But the new year brings high hopes

The Padres may be surprising
A Red Machine could rise again
If the Pirates are pulverizing
I want to write that storybook end

Before a game is played
Before an out is made
Before the first crack of the bat
That's when it's all future and no past

The slinging A's will be overachieving
KC could be a royal pain
The O's recent woes so deceiving
The Tribe could end up drenched in champagne

Every April brings a new slate
So under the circumstance
Let's remember the Rays of 2008
At this point everybody has a chance

Opening day
It's all future and no past

Ash Wednesday (Pt. VI)

[Pt. V here]
by T.S. Eliot

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

dying is fine but death

by e.e. cummings

dying is fine)but Death

?o
baby
i

wouldn't like

Death if Death
were
good:for

when(instead of stopping to think)you

begin to feel of it,dying
's miraculous
why?be

cause dying is

perfectly natural; perfectly
putting
it mildly lively(but

Death

is strictly
scientific
& artificial &

evil & legal)

we thank thee
god
almighty for dying
(forgive us,o life! the sin of Death

I Can Hear Music

by Jeff Barry

This is the way I only dreamed it could be
The way that it is when you are holding me
I never had a love of my own
Maybe that's why when we're all alone

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seem to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

Loving you, it keeps me satisfied
And I can't explain the way I'm feeling inside
You look at me, we kiss and then
I close my eyes, and here it comes again

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

Already Yesterday

by Steve Kilbey

It's already yesterday
We're off the calendar
I heard the sirens play
Just like an orchestra
Mechanical bird of prey
Sing for your emperor
Last broken flash of love
Still in the camera

We don't feel those locks and chains
We won't listen to the lizard part of our brains
Giving the orders
Another morning we'll be gone
I start the car for Ten Mile Beach
And maybe Avalon across the water

It's already yesterday
And nobody's answering
Disconnected, drift away
Nobody's questioning
Head silver, feet of clay
Who is surrendering?
They fall in our heyday
I am remembering

We can't feel those aches and pains
We won't listen to the voices in the city rain
Giving the orders
Another morning I'll be gone
I start the car for Violet Town
And then to Babylon, over the border

Elegy

by Dylan Thomas
Edited by Vernon Watkins

Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride

On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow

Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
Above all he longed for his mother's breast

Which was rest and dust, and in the kind ground
The darkest justice of death, blind and unblessed.
Let him find no rest but be fathered and found,

I prayed in the crouching room, by his blind bed,
In the muted house, one minute before
Noon, and night, and light. the rivers of the dead

Veined his poor hand I held, and I saw
Through his unseeing eyes to the roots of the sea.
(An old tormented man three-quarters blind,

I am not too proud to cry that He and he
Will never never go out of my mind.
All his bones crying, and poor in all but pain,

Being innocent, he dreaded that he died
Hating his God, but what he was was plain:
An old kind man brave in his burning pride.

The sticks of the house were his; his books he owned.
Even as a baby he had never cried;
Nor did he now, save to his secret wound.

Out of his eyes I saw the last light glide.
Here among the light of the lording sky
An old man is with me where I go

Walking in the meadows of his son's eye
On whom a world of ills came down like snow.
He cried as he died, fearing at last the spheres'

Last sound, the world going out without a breath:
Too proud to cry, too frail to check the tears,
And caught between two nights, blindness and death.

O deepest wound of all that he should die
On that darkest day. oh, he could hide
The tears out of his eyes, too proud to cry.

Until I die he will not leave my side.)

The Dry Salvages (Pt. III)

[Pt. II here]
by T.S. Eliot

I sometimes wonder if that is what Krishna meant—
Among other things—or one way of putting the same thing:
That the future is a faded song, a Royal Rose or a lavender spray
Of wistful regret for those who are not yet here to regret,
Pressed between yellow leaves of a book that has never been opened.
And the way up is the way down, the way forward is the way back.
You cannot face it steadily, but this thing is sure,
That time is no healer: the patient is no longer here.
When the train starts, and the passengers are settled
To fruit, periodicals and business letters
(And those who saw them off have left the platform)
Their faces relax from grief into relief,
To the sleepy rhythm of a hundred hours.
Fare forward, travellers! not escaping from the past
Into different lives, or into any future;
You are not the same people who left that station
Or who will arrive at any terminus,
While the narrowing rails slide together behind you;
And on the deck of the drumming liner
Watching the furrow that widens behind you,
You shall not think 'the past is finished'
Or 'the future is before us'.
At nightfall, in the rigging and the aerial,
Is a voice descanting (though not to the ear,
The murmuring shell of time, and not in any language)
'Fare forward, you who think that you are voyaging;
You are not those who saw the harbour
Receding, or those who will disembark.
Here between the hither and the farther shore
While time is withdrawn, consider the future
And the past with an equal mind.
At the moment which is not of action or inaction
You can receive this: "on whatever sphere of being
The mind of a man may be intent
At the time of death"—that is the one action
(And the time of death is every moment)
Which shall fructify in the lives of others:
And do not think of the fruit of action.
Fare forward.
                              O voyagers, O seamen,
You who came to port, and you whose bodies
Will suffer the trial and judgement of the sea,
Or whatever event, this is your real destination.'
So Krishna, as when he admonished Arjuna
On the field of battle.
                                   Not fare well,
But fare forward, voyagers.

[Pt. IV here]

The Song Is You

by Oscar Hammerstein II

I hear music when I look at you
A beautiful theme of every dream I ever knew
Down deep in my heart I hear it play
I feel it start, then it melts away

I hear music when I touch your hand
A beautiful melody from some enchanted land
Down deep in my heart, I hear it say
Is this the day?

I alone have heard this lovely strain
I alone have heard this glad refrain
Must it be forever inside of me?
Why can't I let it go?
Why can't I let you know?

Why can't I let you know
The song my heart would sing?
That beautiful rhapsody
Of love and youth and spring

The music is sweet
The words are true
The song is you

Tesla

by John Flansburgh

Tesla
Brought the X-ray photo to the world
Brought the AC power to the world

Here is a mind that can see across space
Here is a mind soaring free
Sound turns to light and light turns to waves
And waves turn to all things perceived
Maybe that knowledge would drive one insane
How can that knowledge be tamed?

Tesla
Ushered the radio wave into the world
Ushered the neon light into the world

The Hotel New Yorker, he's dead on the floor
The body of Nikola lies
With just his papers, no family to tell
Out of the windows birds fly
Under an X-ray of Mark Twain's skull
The plan for the death-ray's design

Tesla
Brought the radar detection to the world
Ushered remote control into the world
Ushered the bladeless turbine into the world
Ushered the neon light into the world

Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye

by Cole Porter

Ev'ry time we say goodbye
I die a little
Ev'ry time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little
Why the gods above me
Who must be in the know
Think so little of me
They allow you to go

When you're near there's such an air
Of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere
Begin to sing about it
There's no love song finer
But how strange the change
From major to minor
Ev'ry time we say goodbye

This Will Be Our Year

by Chris White

The warmth of your love
Is like the warmth from the sun
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come

Don't let go of my hand
Now darkness has gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come

And I won't forget
The way you held me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said, 'Darling, I love you'
You gave me faith to go on

Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come

The warmth of your smile
Smile for me, little one
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come

You don't have to worry
All your worried days are gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come