Sing Me The Universal
SKU:
Written for full orchestra and SATB or Unison choir this beautiful and moving piece speaks to the universal theme of artistry and creativity. With text taken from three of America's most beloved poets (Longfellow, Thoreau, and Whitman) its power and majesty make it a good choice for a concert finale, or as a combined number.
Concert Recording Available Below
- Voicing: SATB, or Unison ensemble
- Instrumentation: piano accompaniment or Full Orchestra accompaniment
- Text Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Henry David Thoreau, and Walt Whitman
- Duration: 6:30 minutes
- Publisher: Mysterium Music
Full Orchestra parts available here.
TEXT
Text Adapted From
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
As the birds come in the Spring,
We know not from where;
As the stars come at evening
From depths of the air;
As the rain comes from the cloud,
And the brook from the ground;
As suddenly, low or loud,
Out of silence a sound;
Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,
The star that guides our course, with its undying force.
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song, Sing me the Universal.
As the grape comes to the vine,
The fruit to the tree;
As the wind comes to the pine,
And the tide to the sea;
So to the Poet comes his songs,
All hitherward blown
From the misty land, that belongs
To the vast Unknown.
Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,
The star that guides our course, with its undying force.
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song, Sing me the Universal.
A clear and ancient harmony
Pierces my soul through all its din,
As through its utmost melody –
Farther behind than they, farther within.
More swift its bolt than lightning is,
Its voice than thunder is more loud,
It doth expand my privacies
To all, and leave me single in the crowd.
It speaks with such authority,
With so serene and lofty tone,
That idle Time runs slowly by,
And leaves me with Eternity alone.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
As the birds come in the Spring,
We know not from where;
As the stars come at evening
From depths of the air;
As the rain comes from the cloud,
And the brook from the ground;
As suddenly, low or loud,
Out of silence a sound;
Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,
The star that guides our course, with its undying force.
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song, Sing me the Universal.
As the grape comes to the vine,
The fruit to the tree;
As the wind comes to the pine,
And the tide to the sea;
So to the Poet comes his songs,
All hitherward blown
From the misty land, that belongs
To the vast Unknown.
Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,
The star that guides our course, with its undying force.
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Come, said the Muse, Sing me a song, Sing me the Universal.
A clear and ancient harmony
Pierces my soul through all its din,
As through its utmost melody –
Farther behind than they, farther within.
More swift its bolt than lightning is,
Its voice than thunder is more loud,
It doth expand my privacies
To all, and leave me single in the crowd.
It speaks with such authority,
With so serene and lofty tone,
That idle Time runs slowly by,
And leaves me with Eternity alone.