A Funeral Elegy on the Death of George Washington (Abraham Wood): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
{{ | {{Text|English| | ||
Know ye not that a great man hath fall'n today? | |||
Yea, we know it. | |||
Hold thou thy peace. | |||
Mourn, O Americans, for Washington's no more. | |||
Rest his dear sword beneath his head; | |||
Round him his faithful arms shall stand: | |||
Fix his bright ensigns on his bed, | |||
The guards and honours of our land. | |||
Fair Liberty, in sables dress'd, | |||
Write his lov'd name upon his urn, | |||
"Washington! the scourge of tyrants past, | |||
And awe of princes yet unborn." | |||
Glory with all her lamps shall burn, | |||
And watch the warrior's sleeping clay, | |||
'Till the last trumpet rouse his urn, | |||
To aid the triumphs of the day. | |||
Great soul, we leave thee to thy rest; | |||
Enjoy thy Jesus and thy God, | |||
'Till we, from bonds of clay releas'd, | |||
Spring out and climb the shining road.}} | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Classical music]] | [[Category:Classical music]] |
Revision as of 06:03, 25 September 2016
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- Editor: Aaron Giles (submitted 2016-09-25). Score information: Letter, 6 pages, 78 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: A Funeral Elegy on the Death of George Washington
Composer: Abraham Wood
Lyricist: Isaac Watts
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred, Anthem
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Know ye not that a great man hath fall'n today?
Yea, we know it.
Hold thou thy peace.
Mourn, O Americans, for Washington's no more.
Rest his dear sword beneath his head;
Round him his faithful arms shall stand:
Fix his bright ensigns on his bed,
The guards and honours of our land.
Fair Liberty, in sables dress'd,
Write his lov'd name upon his urn,
"Washington! the scourge of tyrants past,
And awe of princes yet unborn."
Glory with all her lamps shall burn,
And watch the warrior's sleeping clay,
'Till the last trumpet rouse his urn,
To aid the triumphs of the day.
Great soul, we leave thee to thy rest;
Enjoy thy Jesus and thy God,
'Till we, from bonds of clay releas'd,
Spring out and climb the shining road.