In Praise of Light
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Version for SA voices and piano:
Version for SAB voices and piano:
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NOTESIn Praise of Light is a rare choral setting of the poetry of Phillis Wheatley, America’s first African American published poet.
Wheatley’s poems often depict the glories of sunlight as reflections of the divine. This work draws on two such poems: “A Hymn to the Evening” is set in its entirety, with the addition of several lines from “A Hymn to the Morning,” bringing full cycle a musical depiction of the rhythms of the day. In composing the music, I’ve tried to evoke the soaring grandeur of Wheatley’s imagery, the dancing rhythms of her iambic pentameter, and the ornate beauty and creativity of her phrases. Phillis Wheatley’s story is both heartbreaking and inspiring. Born in West Africa, she was sold into slavery as a young girl, transported to the United States on a boat called The Phillis, and purchased by the Wheatley family of Boston. Unlike most enslaved people she was given a rigorous education. By age 12, Phillis could read Latin and Greek, and by age 14 she published her first poem. The publication of her first volume of poems in 1773 brought recognition in England and America, praise from George Washington, and emancipation from the Wheatleys. She continued to write poetry, and made efforts to speak against slavery. Despite her acclaim, she died impoverished in childbirth at age 31. Wheatley attended the historic Old South Church in Boston, where I am a member today, and where I have been inspired to keep her poetry and story in the public imagination. The brass and percussion version of In Praise of Light was premiered at the building in which Wheatley worshipped, the Old South Meeting House on Boston’s Freedom Trail. LYRICS*Soon as the sun forsook the eastern main
The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain; Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing, Exhales the incense of the blooming spring. Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes, And through the air their mingled music floats. Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are spread! But the west glories in the deepest red. So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow, The living temples of the light below! Fill'd with the praise of all that gives us light, And draws the sable curtains of the night, Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind, At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refined; So shall the labors of the day begin More pure, more guarded from the snares within. Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes, Then cease, my song, till fair the sun will rise. The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays, On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays. The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies In all their pleasures in my bosom rise. See in the east the lustrous light of day! Whose rising radiance drives the shades away. So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow, The living temples of the light below! Fill'd with the praise of light. * Lyrics include minor edits to Wheatley's poetry, for accessibility to general concert audiences. The score also includes Wheatley's original words, which may be sung at the conductor's discretion. |
SEE ALSO
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