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Twilight Lifts the Veil (for unaccompanied voice)

Katherine Bruton, Soprano
01/28/2019
Ross Crean

Story

Recorded by Daniel Johansen at Rosehill Cemetery, Chicago, IL
October 31, 2018

Project Directed by Maureen Smith
Produced by Ross Crean and Maureen Smith

Copyright 2019 Ross Crean/Knight & Thorne Music, ASCAP, International. All Rights Reserved.

Lyrics

Text by Sara Teasdale (1884 1933)

 

The moon is like a scimitar, 

A little silver scimitar,

A-drifting down the sky.

And near beside it is a star,

A timid twinkling golden star,

That watches like an eye.

And thro’ the nursery window-pane

The witches have a fire again,

Just like the ones we make,

And now I know they’re having tea,

I wish they’d give a cup to me,

With witches’ currant cake.

Katherine Bruton, Soprano
01/28/2019
Ross Crean

Story

Recorded by Daniel Johansen at Rosehill Cemetery, Chicago, IL
October 31, 2018

Project Directed by Maureen Smith
Produced by Ross Crean and Maureen Smith

Copyright 2019 Ross Crean/Knight & Thorne Music, ASCAP, International. All Rights Reserved.

Lyrics

Text by Florence Ripley Mastin (1886 1968)

Night fell one year ago, like this.
He had been writing steadily.
Among these dusky walls of books, How bright he looked, intense as flame! Suddenly he paused,

The firelight in his hair,
And said, “The time has come to go.”
I took his hand;
We watched the logs burn out;
The apple boughs fingered the window;
Down the cool, spring night
A slim, white moon leaned to the hill.
To
-night the trees are budded white,
And the same pale moon slips through the dusk.
O little buds, tap
-tapping on the pane,
O white moon,
I wonder if he sleeps in woods
Where there are leaves?
Or if he lies in some black trench,
His hands, his kind hands, kindling flame that kills? Or if, or if ...
He is here now, to bid me last good
-night?

Katherine Bruton, Soprano
01/28/2019
Ross Crean

Story

Recorded by Daniel Johansen at Rosehill Cemetery, Chicago, IL
October 31, 2018

Project Directed by Maureen Smith
Produced by Ross Crean and Maureen Smith

Copyright 2019 Ross Crean/Knight & Thorne Music, ASCAP, International. All Rights Reserved.

Lyrics

Text by Lizette Woolworth Reese (1856-1935)

 

Two things I did on Hallows Night:— 
Made my house April-clear;
Left open wide my door
To the ghosts of the year.

Then one came in. Across the room 
It stood up long and fair—
The ghost that was myself—
And gave me stare for stare.