A Year of Grace - Stalnaker, J. G.

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"Four settings of poems about the seasons by four women poets by J. G. Stalnaker"

◈ Genre → Anthem

♯ Key B- minor

⁄ Time Signature 4/4

♬ Voicing → Solo S, SSA, TB

◆ Difficulty

Intermediate (Grade 3-4)

↕ Range F2 – G5

¶ Language → English

Measures 218

Texture mixed texture

Parts 5

Instruments Solo S, SSA, TB

Pages 9

CPDL # 49842

Editor J. G. Stalnaker

Posted 2018-05-25

License CPDL License

♫Pitch Ranges

Solo

D4 – G5

C4 – E-5

S A

A3 – G5

T B

F2 – F#4

A-2 – D-4

¶Lyrics / Text

From ''Second April,'' Edna St. Vincent Millay "Song of a Second April" April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling mud and dingy snow; Hepaticas that pleased you so Are here again, and butterflies. There rings a hammering all day, And shingles lie about the doors; In orchards near and far away The grey wood-pecker taps and bores; The men are merry at their chores, And children earnest at their play. The larger streams run still and deep, Noisy and swift the small brooks run Among the mullein stalks the sheep Go up the hillside in the sun, Pensively,—only you are gone, You that alone I cared to keep. From ''Poems,'' Christina G. Rossetti, 1906 p. 46 "A Summer Wish" Live all thy sweet life through Sweet Rose, dew-sprent, Drop down thine evening dew To gather it anew When day is bright: I fancy thou wast meant Chiefly to give delight. Sing in the silent sky, Glad soaring bird; Sing out thy notes on high To sunbeam straying by Or passing cloud; Heedless if thou art heard Sing thy full song aloud. O that it were with me As with the flower; Blooming on its own tree For butterfly and bee [47]Its summer morns: That I might bloom mine hour A rose in spite of thorns. O that my work were done As birds' that soar Rejoicing in the sun: That when my time is run And daylight too, I so might rest once more Cool with refreshing dew. From ''Sword Blades and Poppy Seed,'' Amy Lowell "Late September" Tang of fruitage in the air; Red boughs bursting everywhere; Shimmering of seeded grass; Hooded gentians all a'mass. Warmth of earth, and cloudless wind Tearing off the husky rind, Blowing feathered seeds to fall By the sun-baked, sheltering wall. Beech trees in a golden haze; Hardy sumachs all ablaze, Glowing through the silver birches. How that pine tree shouts and lurches! From the sunny door-jamb high, Swings the shell of a butterfly. Scrape of insect violins Through the stubble shrilly dins.