In the End
I: We brought nothing into this world,
and it is certain we can carry nothing out.
-1 Timothy 6:7
II: Here lies Ned Purdon, from misery freed,
Who long was a bookseller’s hack;
He led such a damnable life in this world,
I don’t think he’ll ever come back.
-epitaph by Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774)
for Edward Purdon
III: DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for thou art not so,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
-John Donne (1572-1631)
IV: Warm summer sun, shine kindly here;
Warm southern wind, blow softly here;
Green sod above, lie light, lie light --
Good-night, dear heart, good-night, good-night.
-epitaph for Olivia Susan Clemens (1866-1890),
daughter of Mark Twain
V: The eternal God is thy refuge,
and underneath are the everlasting arms.
•Finalist in the 2006 National Association of Teachers of Singing (NATS) Art Song Competition
•Recipient of the Boston Contempo Festival 2013 Festival Award
Available on the CD, Hammer and Wind
online orders: www.musiccentre.ca