Text of Proud Music of the Storm
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Proud music of the storm CHORUS Proud music of the storm, Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies, Strong hum of forest tree-tops—wind of the mountains, Personified dim shapes—you hidden orchestras, You serenades of phantoms with instruments alert, Bending with Nature’s rhythmus all the tongues of nations; You chords left as by vast composers—you choruses, You formless, free, religious dances—you from the Orient, You undertone of rivers, roar of pouring cataracts, You sounds from distant guns with galloping cavalry, Echoes of camps with all the different bugle-calls, Trooping tumultuous, filling the midnight late, bending me powerless… SOPRANO SOLO Entering my lonesome slumber-chamber, why have you siez’d me? 2. Come forward O my soul SOPRANO SOLO Come forward O my soul, and let the rest retire, Listen, lose not, it is t’ward thee they tend, Parting the midnight, entering my slumber-chamber, For thee they sing and dance O soul. 3. Now loud approaching drums BASS SOLO Now loud approaching drums… CHORUS Victoria! BASS SOLO See’st thou in powder-smoke the banners torn but flying? the rout of the baffled? Hearest those shouts of a conquering army? CHORUS Victoria! BASS SOLO (Ah soul, the sobs of women, the wounded groaning in agony, The hiss and crackle of flames, the blacken’d ruins, the embers of cities, The dirge and desolation of mankind.) 4. Ah from a little child CHORUS Ah from a little child, Thou knowest soul how to me all sounds became music, My mother’s voice in lullaby or hymn, (The voice, O tender voices, mem’ry’s loving voices, Last miracle of all, O dearest mother’s, sister’s, voices;) The rain, the growing corn, the breeze among the long-leav’d corn, The measur’d sea-surf beating on the sand, The twittering bird, the hawk’s sharp scream, The wild-fowl’s notes at night as flying low migrating north or south, The psalm in the country church or mid the clustering trees, the open air camp-meeting, The fiddler in the tavern, the glee, the long-strung sailor-song, The lowing cattle, bleating sheep, the crowing cock at dawn. All songs of current lands come sounding round me… 5. I hear the dance-music of all nations MEZZO-SOPRANO SOLO I hear the dance-music of all nations, The waltz, some delicious measure, lapsing, bathing me in bliss… I see religious dances old and new, I hear the sound of the Hebrew lyre, I see the crusaders marching bearing the cross on high, to the martial clang of cymbals, |
I hear dervishes chanting,
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