“When Old Words Die Out” is a large-scale 40′ work for divisi chorus and chamber orchestra by Ethan Watts set to texts by Rabindranath Tagore. Written in collaboration with Dr. Reed Spencer (Taylor University) in the summer of 2022, “When Old Words Die Out” tells the story of God coming down from his throne to ‘stand at our cottage door’, and how he is with us in every season. The work was premiered May 6th, 2023 by the Taylor University Chorale and Orchestra Indiana, with baritone soloist Dr. Conor Angell.
SATB choir (divisi), baritone solo; alto sax (solo), fl, ob, Bb cl, trp, hn, pno, 2 perc, str; ~40:00
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Text
I. Cottage Door
You came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door.
I was singing all alone, and the melody caught your ear.
Masters are many in your hall, and songs are sung there at all hours,
But the simple carol struck at your love.
One plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world,
And with a flower for a prize you came down from your throne and stopped at my cottage door.
II. Light
Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, the heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life;
Ah, the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love;
The sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.
The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.
Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.
The heaven’s river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.
III. This is My Prayer
This is my prayer to thee, O Lord.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Strike, strike at the root of poverty in my heart.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
Give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.
IV. Rain
The rain has held back for days, and days, my God, in my arid heart.
The horizon is fiercely naked —
Not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud,
Not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower.
Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish,
And with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end.
But call back, my Lord, call back this pervading silent heat,
Still and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair.
Let the cloud of grace bend low from above
Like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father’s wrath.
V. Let Only That Little
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all.
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may feel thee on every side,
And come to thee in everything,
And offer to thee my love every moment.
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.
Let only that little be left of my fetters whereby I am bound to thy will,
And thy purpose is carried out in my life —
And that is the fetter of thy love.
VI. Invitation
I have had my invitation to this world’s festival, and thus my life has been blessed.
My eyes have seen and my ears have heard.
It was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have done all I could.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart;
And where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.
Now, I ask, has the time come at last
When I may go in and see thy face
And offer thee my silent salutation?
VII. Day After Day
Day after day, O Lord of my life
Shall I stand before thee face to face?
With folded hands, O Lord of all worlds
Shall I stand before thee face to face?
Under thy great sky in solitude and silence,
With humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face?
In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle,
Among hurrying crowds, shall I stand before thee face to face?
And when my work shall be done in this world
O King of kings, alone and speechless,
Shall I stand before thee face to face?
- Rabindranath Tagore