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In a Nursing Home
(Mother Melania)
I wonder when I look at you -
What pains and griefs have you been
through?
What joys and triumphs you have known?
What dreams are held by you alone?
Perhaps you were a physicist,
A rancher or a pharmacist,
A grocer or an editor,
A baker or a senator.
Perhaps you raised a family
And brought your children up to be
Good-hearted, wise, and full of love
For man and beast and God above.
But now it’s very hard to find
A way to reach your failing mind,
For, though within these walls you stay,
Already you are far away.
I wonder – as this world grows dim,
Do you with joy now gaze on Him
Who caused the sun to shine of old
And in His arms all things enfolds?
If Christ our Savior you can see,
I beg that you would pray for me,
His little child, that I may start
To see Him clearly with my heart.
And when I too grow old and die,
Then pray again to Christ that I
May also see His loving face
And live forever in His grace
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Ross Beresford: Eclipse
03:47
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Wei He: String Quartet
04:13
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On the Beach at Night Alone
(Walt Whitman)
On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.
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In Flanders Fields
(John McCrae)
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
We Shall Keep the Faith
(Moina Michael)
Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.
Spring in War-Time
(Sara Teasdale)
I feel the spring far off, far off,
The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—
Oh, how can spring take heart to come
To a world in grief,
Deep grief?
The sun turns north, the days grow long,
Later the evening star grows bright—
How can the daylight linger on
For men to fight,
Still fight?
The grass is waking in the ground,
Soon it will rise and blow in waves—
How can it have the heart to sway
Over the graves,
New graves?
Under the boughs where lovers walked
The apple-blooms will shed their breath—
But what of all the lovers now
Parted by Death,
Grey Death?
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The Walden School Dublin, New Hampshire
Founded in 1972, the Walden School is an acclaimed summer music school and festival, offering programs that emphasize creativity through musicianship, improvisation, and composition. Our programs include the Young Musicians Program (9-18) and the Creative Musicians Retreat (18+). Set in beautiful New Hampshire, Walden provides an inspiring retreat-like environment ideal for creative music making. ... more
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