Symphony of dreams (Huub de Lange)

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  • (Posted 2015-09-29)  CPDL #36962: 
1. Demon   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
2. The Land of dreams   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
3. The Ride   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
4. No man's land   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
5. Written in early spring   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif
6. Moon over a winding river   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
7. Courtly dance   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
8. A Dream within a dream   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
9. Everybody dancing with everybody   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
10. Litte song to end a symphony of dreams   ( Icon_pdf_globe.gif Icon_mp3_globe.gif )
Editor: Huub de Lange (submitted 2015-09-29).   Score information: Unknown   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Symphony of dreams
Composer: Huub de Lange
Lyricist: Edgar Allan Poe , William Blake, Richard Wilbur, William Wordsworth, Friedrich Rückert.

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: SecularSymphony

Language: English
Instruments: Orchestra

First published:
Description: 10 parts

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Part 1: Demon (Edgar Allan Poe)

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

Part 2: The Land of dreams (William Blake)

Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother's only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.

"O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O Father, I saw my Mother there,
Among the lillies by waters fair.

Among the lambs clothed in white
She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn -
O when shall I return again?"

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wandered all night in the Land of Dreams;
But though calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.

"Father, O Father, what do we here,
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the Morning Star."

Part 3: The Ride (Richard Wilbur)

The horse beneath me seemed
To know what course to steer
Through the horror of snow I dreamed,
And so I had no fear,

Nor was I chilled to death
By the wind’s white shudders, thanks
To the veils of his patient breath
And the mist of sweat from his flanks.

It seemed that all night through,
Within my hand no rein
And nothing in my view
But the pillar of his mane,

I rode with magic ease
At a quick, unstumbling trot
Through shattering vacancies
On into what was not,

Till the weave of the storm grew thin,
With a threading of cedar-smoke,
And the ice-blind pane of an inn
Shimmered, and I awoke.

How shall I now get back
To the inn-yard where he stands,
Burdened with every lack,
And waken the stable-hands

To give him, before I think
That there was no horse at all,
Some hay, some water to drink,
A blanket and a stall?

Part 4: (orchestral)

Part 5: Written in early spring (William Wordsworth)

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

Part 6: Moon over a winding river (orchestral)

Part 7: Courtly dance (orchestral)

Part 8: A Dream within a dream (Edgar Allan Poe)

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Part 9: Everybody dancing with everybody (orchestral)

Part 10: Little song to end a symphony of dreams (Friedrich Rückert/ 'Jasminenstrauch')

Grün ist der Jasminenstrauch
Abends eingeschlafen,
Als ihn mit des Morgens Hauch
Sonnenlichter trafen,
Ist er schneeweiß aufgewacht:
»Wie geschah mir in der Nacht?«
Seht, so geht es Bäumen,
Die im Frühling träumen.