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He often would ask us That, when he died, After playing so many To their last rest, If out of us any Should here abide, And it would not task us, We would with our lutes Play over him By his grave-brim The psalm he liked best - The one whose sense suits "Mount Ephraim" - And perhaps we should seem To him, in Death's dream, Like the seraphim. As soon as I knew That his spirit was gone I thought this his due, And spoke thereupon. "I think," said the vicar, "A read service quicker Than viols out-of-doors In these frosts and hoars. That old-fashioned way Requires a fine day, And it seems to me It had better not be." Hence, that afternoon, Though never knew he That his wish could not be, To get through it faster They buried the master Without any tune. But 'twas said that, when At the dead of next night The vicar looked out, There struck on his ken Thronged roundabout, Where the frost was graying The headstoned grass, A band all in white Like the saints in church-glass, Singing and playing The ancient stave By the choirmaster's grave. Such the tenor man told When he had grown old.
Text Authorship:
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "The Choirmaster's Burial", appears in Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses, first published 1917 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "The choirmaster's burial", op. 52 no. 5 (1953), published 1954 [ high voice, piano ], from Winter words, no. 5 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Christopher Park) , "L'enterrement du maître de chœur", copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , David Arkell [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 48
Word count: 204
Il nous demandait souvent Si, quand il mourrait, Après avoir mené en musique Tant de gens vers leur dernier repos, Si de notre compagnie Il en restait de ce monde, Si cela ne nous dérangeait pas, Pourrions-nous avec nos luths, Jouer pour lui, Au bord de sa tombe, Son psaume préféré, Celui dont le sens convient à « La montagne d’Éphraïm » Et peut-être aurions-nous l’air Pour lui, dans le rêve de la mort, comme les séraphins ? Dès que j'ai su Que son esprit était parti J'ai pensé que c'était son dû, Et j'ai alors évoqué ce sujet. « Je pense, » dit le curé, « Un office sans musique serait plus rapide Que des violes en plein air Par ces givres et frimas. Ces coutumes à l’ancienne Nécessitent du beau temps, Et il me semble donc qu'il vaudrait mieux qu'il n'y en ait pas. » Ainsi, cet après-midi-là, Bien qu'il n'ait jamais su Que son souhait ne pouvait être, Pour en finir plus vite Ils ont enterré le maître Sans aucune musique. Mais on dit que, lorsque Au milieu de la nuit suivante Le curé regarda dehors, Il fut étonné d’apercevoir Une foule aux alentours, Là où le givre grisait Le gazon et les pierres tombales, Une bande tout de blanc vêtue Comme les saints dans les vitraux, Chantant et jouant Les anciennes portées Près de la tombe du maître de chœur. Voilà ce que le ténor a raconté Quand il était devenu vieux.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2022 by Christopher Park, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "The Choirmaster's Burial", appears in Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses, first published 1917
This text was added to the website: 2022-06-26
Line count: 48
Word count: 245