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Incidental music to Electra (Preview)

  • Text
  • Electra
  • Music
  • Williams
by Ralph Vaughan Williams | Orchestra and chorus

Choir soprano solo Lo,

Choir soprano solo Lo, my way To thee in the dawn hath sped, And the cot on the mountain grey, For the Watcher hath cried this day: Chorus He of the ancient folk, The walker of waste and hill, Who drinketh the milk of the flock; And he told of Hera’s will; For the morrow’s morrow now They cry her festival, And before her throne shall bow Our damsels all. Electra – Spoken Not unto joy, nor sweet Music, nor shining of gold, The wings of my spirit beat. Let the brides of Argos hold Their dance in the night, as of old; I lead no dance; I mark No beat as the dancers sway; With tears I dwell in the dark, And my thought is of tears alway, To the going down of the day. Look on my wasted hair And raiment…. This that I bear, Is it meet for the King my sire, And her whom the King begot? For Troy, that was burned with fire And forgetteth not? Chorus Hera is great!—Ah, come, Be kind; and my hand shall bring Fair raiment, work of the loom, And many a golden thing, For joyous robe-wearing. Choir soprano solo Deemest thou that this thy woe PEV03 – xii

Shall rise unto God as prayer, Or bend thine haters low? Doth God for thy pain have care? Chorus Not tears for the dead nor sighs, But worship and joy divine Shall win thee peace in thy skies, O daughter mine! Electra - Spoken No care cometh to God For the voice of the helpless; none For the crying of ancient blood. Alas for him that is gone, And for thee, O wandering one: That now, methinks, in a land Of the stranger must toil for hire, And stand where the poor men stand, A-cold by another’s fire, O son of the mighty sire: While I in a beggar’s cot On the wrecked hills, changing not, Starve in my soul for food; But our mother lieth wed In another’s arms, and blood Is about her bed. Choir alto solo On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy, Thy mother’s sister, Helen,—and on thee. 2. O FOR THE SHIPS OF TROY Chorus O for the ships of Troy, the beat Of oars that shimmered Innumerable, and dancing feet Of Nereids glimmered; And dolphins, drunken with the lyre, Across the dark blue prows, like fire, Did bound and quiver, To cleave the way for Thetis’ son, PEV03 – xiii

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Electra Incidental Music Vaughan Williams