CHORAL MUSIC BY JONATHAN DOVE - Abeille Musique

In a poor cottage inned, a virgin maid,
A weakling did him bear, who all upbears;
There is he, poorly swaddled, in manger laid,
To whom too narrow swaddlings are our spheres:
Run, shepherds, run to Bethlehem.
This is that night—no, day grown great with bliss,
In which the power of Satan broken is;
In heaven be glory, peace unto the earth.
Thus singing, through the air the angels swam,
And cope of stars re-echoed the same.
Run, shepherds, run to Bethlehem.
WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN (1585–1649)
bm Ecce beatam lucem.
Virtus alma et maiestas passim cernenda adest.
Quantum decoris illustr’in sole,
quam venusta es luna,
quam multo clar’honore sidera fulgent,
quam pulchra quaequ’in orbe!
O quam perennis esca
tam sanctas mentes pascit!
O mel et dulce nectar,
o fortunatam sedem!
Haec quies,
haec voluptas,
haec meta
nos hinc attrahunt recta in paradisum.
Behold the blessed light.
Benign power and majesty are seen everywhere.
The dazzling splendour of the sun
is matched by you, the moon,
and by the stars shining brightly in their great glory.
How magnificent is all creation!
O how such eternal nourishment
feeds holy minds!
O honey and sweet nectar,
O blessed place!
This peace,
this delight,
this goal
draws us from here straight to paradise.
9
bn In beauty may I walk,
All day long may I walk,
Through the returning seasons may I walk.
Beautifully will I possess again
Beautifully joyful birds.
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk.
With dew about my feet may I walk.
With beauty before me
With beauty behind me
With beauty above me
With beauty all around me
It is finished in beauty.
ANONYMOUS, from the Navajo
translated by JEROME K ROTHENBERG (b1931)
Seek him that maketh the seven stars
soprano solo SOPHIE GALLAGHER
bo Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion
and turneth the shadow of death into the morning.
Alleluia, yea, the darkness shineth as the day, the night is
light about me.
Amen.
AMOS 5: 8, PSALM 139: 12
bp Into thy hands, O Lord and Father, we commend our souls
and our bodies, our parents and our homes, friends and
kindred. Into thy hands, O Lord and Father, we commend
our benefactors and brethren departed. Into thy hands, O
Lord and Father, we commend all thy people faithfully
believing, and all who need thy pity and protection.
Enlighten us with thy holy grace and suffer us never
more to be separated from thee.
Lord Jesus Christ, mercifully grant to me that the rest of my
pilgrimage may be directed according to thy will, that the
rest of my life may be completed in thee and my soul may
deserve to enjoy thee who art eternal life for ever.
TWO PRAYERS OF ST EDMUND OF ABINGDON (1175–1240)