TEXTS AND TRANSLATIONS
A Winter Day
1. Timid Star
Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
Fields beneath a quilt of snow
from which the rocks and stubble peep,
And in the west a shy white star
that shivers as it wakes from sleep.
2. A Winter Dawn
Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874-1942)
Above the marge of night a star still shines,
and on the frosty hills the somber pines
harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low
over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow.
Through the pale arch of orient the moon
comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born,
a sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray
banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day!
4. A Winter Day
Lucy Maud Montgomery
Wide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
beneath a blue, unshadowed sky.
Life hath a jollity and zest,
a poignancy made manifest;
Laughter and courage have their way
At noontide of a winter’s day.
A glist’ning splendor crowns the woods
and bosky, whistling solitudes;
In hemlock glen and reedy mere
the tang of frost is sharp and clear.
Life hath a jollity and zest…
Faint music rings in wold and dell,
the tinkling of a distant bell,
Where homestead lights with friendly glow
glimmer across the drifted snow.
Life hath a jollity and zest…
5. Snow Toward Evening
Melville Cane (1879-1980)
Suddenly the sky turned gray,
the day,
which had been bitter and chill,
grew soft and still.
Quietly
from some invisible blossoming tree
millions of petals cool and white
drifted and blew
lifted and flew,
fell with the falling night.
Frostiana
Robert Frost (1874-1963)
- The Road Not Taken (1915)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- The Pasture (1910)
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long. – You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. – You come too.
- Come In (1934)
As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music – hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.
Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went –
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.
But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.
- The Telephone (1920)
“When I was just as far as I could walk
From here today,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head against a flower
I heard you talk.
Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say –
You spoke from that flower on the window sill –
Do you remember what it was you said?”
“First tell me what it was you thought you heard.”
“Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned my head,
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word –
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say –
Someone said ‘Come’ – I heard it as I bowed.”
“I may have thought as much, but not aloud.”
“Well, so I came.”
- A Girl’s Garden (1916)
A neighbor of mine in the village
Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, she did
A childlike thing.
One day she asked her father
To give her a garden plot
To plant and tend and reap herself,
And he said, “Why not?”
In casting about for a corner
He thought of an idle bit
Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood,
And he said, “Just it.”
And he said, “That ought to make you
An ideal one-girl farm,
And give you a chance to put some strength
On your slim-jim arm.”
It was not enough of a garden,
Her father said, to plough;
So she had to work it all by hand,
But she don’t mind now.
She wheeled the dung in the wheelbarrow
Along a stretch of road;
But she always ran away and left
Her not-nice load.
And hid from anyone passing.
And then she begged the seed.
She says she thinks she planted one
Of all things but weed.
A hill each of potatoes,
Radishes, lettuce, peas,
Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn,
And even fruit trees
And yes, she has long mistrusted
That a cider apple tree
In bearing there to-day is hers,
Or at least may be.
Her crop was a miscellany
When all was said and done,
A little bit of everything,
A great deal of none.
Now when she sees in the village
How village things go,
Just when it seems to come in right,
She says, “I know!
It’s as when I was a farmer——”
Oh, never by way of advice!
And she never sins by telling the tale
To the same person twice.
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (1922)
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Choose Something Like a Star (1916)
O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud –
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says, 'I burn.'
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats' Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.
The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus
Ogden Nash (1902-1971)
1. The Boy Who Laughed At Santa Claus
In Baltimore there lived a boy.
He wasn't anybody's joy.
Although his name was Jabez Dawes,
His character was full of flaws.
In school he never led his classes,
He hid old ladies' reading glasses,
His mouth was open when he chewed,
And elbows to the table glued.
He stole the milk of hungry kittens,
And walked through doors marked NO ADMITTANCE.
He said he acted thus because
There wasn't any Santa Claus.
Another trick that tickled Jabez
Was crying 'Boo' at little babies.
He brushed his teeth, they said in town,
Sideways instead of up and down.
Yet people pardoned every sin,
And viewed his antics with a grin,
Till they were told by Jabez Dawes,
'There isn't any Santa Claus!'
Deploring how he did behave,
His parents swiftly sought their grave.
They hurried through the portals pearly,
And Jabez left the funeral early.
Like whooping cough, from child to child,
He sped to spread the rumor wild:
'Sure as my name is Jabez Dawes
There isn't any Santa Claus!'
Slunk like a weasel of a marten
Through nursery and kindergarten,
Whispering low to every tot,
'There isn't any, no there's not!'
2. The children wept all Christmas Eve
The children wept all Christmas eve
And Jabez chortled up his sleeve.
No infant dared hang up his stocking
For fear of Jabez' ribald mocking.
He sprawled on his untidy bed,
Fresh malice dancing in his head,
When presently with scalp-a-tingling,
Jabez heard a distant jingling;
He heard the crunch of sleigh and hoof
Crisply alighting on the roof.
What good to rise and bar the door?
A shower of soot was on the floor.
What was beheld by Jabez Dawes?
The fireplace full of Santa Claus!
3. Then Jabez fell upon his knees
Then Jabez fell upon his knees
With cries of 'Don't,' and 'Pretty Please.'
He howled, 'I don't know where you read it,
But anyhow, I never said it!'
'Jabez' replied the angry saint,
'It isn't I, it's you that ain't.
Although there is a Santa Claus,
There isn't any Jabez Dawes!'
Said Jabez then with impudent vim,
'Oh, yes there is, and I am him!
Your magic don't scare me, it doesn't'
And suddenly he found he wasn't!
From grimy feet to grimy locks,
Jabez became a Jack-in-the-box,
An ugly toy with springs unsprung,
Forever sticking out his tongue.
The neighbors heard his mournful squeal;
They searched for him, but not with zeal.
No trace was found of Jabez Dawes,
Which led to thunderous applause,
And people drank a loving cup
And went and hung their stockings up.
All you who sneer at Santa Claus,
Beware the fate of Jabez Dawes,
The saucy boy who mocked the saint.
Donner and Blitzen licked off his paint.
Still, Still, Still
Alexander L’Estrange, based on the 19th-century German; Traditional Austrian Carol
Still, still, still,
Mein liebes Kindlein, still.
Die Englein leise für dich singen,
Und ferne Glocken sanft erklingen.
Still, still, still,
Mein liebes Kindlein, still.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
The infant King is asleep.
His peace and stillness all around you,
Heavenly rest and calm surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
The infant King is asleep.
Still, still, still, (stille Nacht,)
The babe is sleeping still. (heilige Nacht,)
While angels all above are singing, (Alles schläft,)
Peace to all the world He is bringing. (einsam wacht)
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh.
In the Bleak Midwinter
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and Seraphim thronged the air,
But only His mother in her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved with a kiss.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb.
If I were a wise man, I would do my part.
Yet what I can, I give Him:
Give my heart.
Jingle Bells
James Lord Pierpont (1822-1893)
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O'er the fields we go,
Laughing all the way.
Bells on bobtail ring,
Making spirits bright,
What fun it is to laugh and sing
A sleighing song tonight.
Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way.
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.
Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way;
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.
Now the ground is white,
Go it while you’re young,
Take the girls tonight,
And sing this sleighing song.
Just get a bobtailed bay
Two-forty for his speed,
Then hitch him to an open sleigh
And crack, you'll take the lead!
PROGRAM NOTES
Compiled by Sara Michael
Sarah Quartel (b. 1982) is a Canadian composer and educator known for her choral works, as well as for her commitment to connecting exciting musical experiences with meaningful classroom learning. She divides her time between Ontario and Hawai’i, and regularly appears as a guest clinician at international music education and choral events. A Winter Day is a five-movement work for choir, piano, and cello with texts by Sara Teasdale, Lucy Maud Montgomery (best known for Anne of Green Gables), and Melville Cane. Quartel writes, “It was inspired by my tremendous affection for the snowy and icy winters I live each year as a resident of this part of the country. Each movement in the work illustrates a different time in a winter day. We begin, with ‘Timid Star,’ in the dark stillness before dawn, where ‘a shy white star’ shivers as it shines on frozen fields below. In ‘A Winter Dawn,’ color floods the sky and a triumphant sunrise rings through the music. ‘Into Morning’ takes me back to exciting childhood days out on the land in knee-deep snow, or outings with treasured family members where a great dark horse would pull our sleigh through the nearby woods; the ‘tang of frost’ in ‘A Winter Day’ would leave us refreshed and laughing. As the work comes to a close, so does the day. Stillness returns and falling snow covers any evidence of the day’s activities. The sky returns to darkness once more.” – Dr. Leah Weinberg
Frostiana: Seven Country Songs (celebrating the 150th anniversary of Robert Frost’s birth)
Since the early days of his publication, Robert Frost has been identified as a brilliant poet and teacher of wholly American creation. His collections of poetic works have achieved unparalleled heights in the literary canon, while his use of untraditional forms, colloquial language, and New England sensibilities helped to construct an entirely new genre of pastoral poetry.
In 1959, Randall Thompson was commissioned by the town of Amherst to compose a choral work in honor of their two-hundredth anniversary. Because of Amherst’s close association with Frost (as well as Thompson’s friendship with the poet), the town decided that Thompson should set one of Frost’s poems to music for the event. The end result, entitled “Frostiana: Seven Country Songs,” is a seven-movement choral piece based on the text of seven of Frost’s poems: “The Road Not Taken,” “The Pasture,” “Come In,” “The Telephone,” “A Girl’s Garden,” “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening,” and “Choose Something Like a Star.” Thompson made a palpable effort to match his music to Frost’s poetry, particularly in terms of the themes of everyday life, rural tradition, and nature that Frost highlights in his work. As a result, “Frostiana” has the same appealing, colloquial elements found in Frost’s poetry but with the additional layer of musical language.
Because Thompson composed the work while in Switzerland, Frost heard the piece for the first time at its premiere at the Amherst Regional High School in Amherst on October 18, 1959. Thompson conducted the premiere and used the Bicentennial Chorus, made up of local singers, and piano accompaniment. According to some reports, Frost was so delighted by the performance that, at the conclusion of the piece, he stood up and shouted, “Sing that again!”
- Nikk Pilato
The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus
Nearly 20 years after first setting several of Ogden Nash’s short poems in his playful Animal Crackers Vols. I & II, Eric Whitacre once again put the poet’s famous wit and unconventional rhymes to use in The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus (2017). Whitacre says this setting “tells the story of Jabez Dawes (‘Jabez’ rhymes with ‘rabies’), a horrible little boy who doesn’t believe in Santa. It’s a fun, tongue-in cheek romp, written in a style I like to call ‘Mendelssohn meets Danny Elfman.’” With his signature blend of classical and contemporary styles, this oratorio is full of his own humor, theatrics, and Easter eggs in the form of familiar melodies peppered throughout.
Alexander L'Estrange Carol Arrangements
An “arrangement” is when a composer takes a pre-existing melody and re-imagines it in a new way. Three such creations by English composer Alexander L’Estrange (b. 1974) will conclude Kantorei’s program.
“Still, Still, Still” is an Austrian carol. Initially appearing in print in 1865, it reflects upon the quiet and stillness around the manger on that first Christmas night. Another vision of that evening appears with “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Originally published in 1872, the text by English poet Christina Rosetti, has been set by numerous composers wishing to provide their personal musical impressions of the scene. L’Estrange adds his own interpretation. © Betsy Schwarm, author of the Classical Music Insights series
“Jingle Bells,” written in 1850 by James Lord Pierpont, has become a yuletide staple, despite having no original connection to Christmas; some historians claim it was written as a drinking song about picking up girls, drag-racing on snow, and a high-speed crash. In this whimsical arrangement, L’Estrange vividly depicts the sound of the bells that were added to horses’ harnesses to avoid collisions at blind intersections, and captures the fun of a snow-filled joy ride.