LiederNet logo

CONTENTS

×
  • Home | Introduction
  • Composers (20,162)
  • Text Authors (19,581)
  • Go to a Random Text
  • What’s New
  • A Small Tour
  • FAQ & Links
  • Donors
  • DONATE

UTILITIES

  • Search Everything
  • Search by Surname
  • Search by Title or First Line
  • Search by Year
  • Search by Collection

CREDITS

  • Emily Ezust
  • Contributors (1,115)
  • Contact Information
  • Bibliography

  • Copyright Statement
  • Privacy Policy

Follow us on Facebook

[ Add setting to List ]

O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?

Set by Paul Hindemith (1895 - 1963), no title [ baritone, mezzo-soprano, chorus and orchestra ], from cantata When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd, no. 7 [Sung Text]

Note: this setting is made up of several separate texts.


O [what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And]1 what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?

Pictures of growing spring and farms and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific,
In the distance of the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.

Text Authorship:

  • by Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892), no title, appears in Memories of President Lincoln, in When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd, no. 11

See other settings of this text.

View original text (without footnotes)
1 omitted by Sessions

Researcher for this page: Ahmed E. Ismail



Lo, body and soul -- this land,
My own Manhattan with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South and the North in the light, Ohio's shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies cover'd with grass and corn.

Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty,
The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes,
The gentle soft-born measureless light,
The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.

Text Authorship:

  • by Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892), no title, appears in Memories of President Lincoln, in When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd, no. 12

See other settings of this text.

Researcher for this page: Ahmed E. Ismail


Author(s): Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892)
Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

Donate

We use cookies for internal analytics and to earn much-needed advertising revenue. (Did you know you can help support us by turning off ad-blockers?) To learn more, see our Privacy Policy. To learn how to opt out of cookies, please visit this site.

I acknowledge the use of cookies

Contact
Copyright
Privacy

Copyright © 2025 The LiederNet Archive

Site redesign by Shawn Thuris