Hymn to St. Cecilia, Op. 27 Lyrics – Benjamin Britten
Singer: Benjamin Britten
Title: Hymn to St. Cecilia, Op. 27
Like a black swan as death came on
And by ocean’s margin this innocent virgin
Constructed an organ to enlarge her prayer
And notes tremendous from her great engine
Thundered out on the Roman air
Blonde Aphrodite rose up excited
Moved to delight by the melody
White as an orchid she rode quite naked
In an oyster shell on top of the sea
At sounds so entrancing the angels dancing
Came out of their trance into time again
And around the wicked in Hell’s abysses
The huge flame flickered and eased their pain
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire
I cannot grow
I have no shadow
To run away from
I only play
I am defeat
When it knows it
Can now do nothing
By suffering
I shall never be
Different. Love me
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire
I cannot err
There is no creature
Whom I belong to
Whom I could wrong
All you lived through
Dancing because you
No longer need it
For any deed
O ear whose creatures cannot wish to fall
O calm of spaces unafraid of weight
Where Sorrow is herself, forgetting all
The gaucheness of her adolescent state
Where Hope within the altogether strange
From every outworn image is released
And Dread born whole and normal like a beast
Restore our fallen day O re-arrange
O dear white children casual as birds
Playing among the ruined languages
So small beside their large confusing words
So gay against the greater silences
Of dreadful things you did: O hang the head
Impetuous child with the tremendous brain
O weep, child, weep, O weep away the stain
Lost innocence who wished your lover dead
Weep for the lives your wishes never led
O cry created as the bow of sin
Is drawn across our trembling violin
O weep, child, weep, O weep away the stain
O law drummed out by hearts against the still
Long winter of our intellectual will
That what has been may never be again
O flute that throbs with the thanksgiving breath
Of convalescents on the shores of death
O bless the freedom that you never chose
O trumpets that unguarded children blow
About the fortress of their inner foe
O wear your tribulation like a rose
Blessed Cecilia, appear in visions
Translated Daughter, come down and startle
Composing mortals with immortal fire
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Lyrics Benjamin Britten – Hymn to St. Cecilia, Op. 27
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