UMS Concert Program, December 10: Choral Union Series -- Mr. And Mrs. Georg Henschel

Season: 1897-1898
Concert: Second
Complete Series: LX

francis w. kelsey. President.
ALBERT A. STANLEY,
Director.
Ninth Season.
1897 CHORAL UNION SERIES.
NO. LX COMPLETE SERIES.
1898
Second Concert.
Iftr. nnb Iforel (Beorg IHenscbeL
SONG RECITAL.
Friday Evening, December
8:00 O'CLOCK.
lprogvam.
1. DUET from "Giannina e Bernadone,"
Oh rapture, oh jny.
To tue woods lo repair: All my eaves to alloy.
By a breath of fresh air. Ohplea;ut: unending. Through llii; woods to l)e wending.
C1MAROSA
A life of delight
Leads the soldier gay; What a glorious sight.
Troops in battle array! The trumpets play And loud drums bray.
Tarapata. tarapata.
Amid these flowers.
Whence perfumes How. My aching heart
Some peace doth know. Oh! how 1 love rude war's alarms. And clashing arms to joy me move.
MR. AND MRS. HENSCHEL
2. SACRED SONG "Wait thou still" (1630),
Wait, thou still: 'tis not in vain.
For the Lord He makes provision, He will chase all scorn and pain.
Be it honor or derision--All is ordered by His will. Wait thou still.
b. SERENATA from "Agrippina,"
T. W. FRANCK
Wait thou .still; the sun's bright ray Soon upon thee may be shining.
Still in peace pursue thy way,
('ease from weeping and repining.
Think 'tis all our Father's will. Wait thou still.
Beloved, come ! The stars are bright. Love's sweet delight Awaits us. come !
c. ARIA from "Almira,"
HAENDEL
HAENDEL
Hope whispers in my ear:
The longed-for goal is near.
Thou, fortune, if it be thy will, [still!
Can'st make me happy, linger with me
MR. HENSCHEL 3. a. CANZONET "My mother bids me bind my hair,"
My mother bids me bind my hair
With bands of rosy hue. Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare. -t'"'"
And lace my bodice blue. "For why,i she cries, "sit still and w.-ep
While others dance and play V" Alas. 1 scarce can go or ere:-p.
While Lubin is away.
HAYDN
"Pis sad to think the days are gone When tshose we love were near:
I sit upon 'this mossy stone. And sigh when none can hear.
And while I spin my llaxen thread. .And sing my simple lay.
The village seems asleep or dead. Now Lubin is awiiv.
b. SONG-"Nymphs and Shepherds,"
Nymphs and shepherds come away, come away; Nymphs and shepherds come away, come away: Come, come, come, come away. In this grove, in this grove, let's sport and play, Let's sport and play, let's sport and play, For this, this is Flora's holiday.
Sacred to ease and happy love,
To music, to dancing.
To music, to dancing and to poetry.
Your flocks may now, now, now, now, now, now, now,
Now, now, now securely rest,
Whilst you express, whilst you express your jollity.
c. SONG--"Where be going"
'Where be going to, dear little maiden, With your red rosy cheeks and your black curly hair" "I be going a-rnilking, kind little man," she said '"Tis dabbling in the dew makes the milkmaids fair."
"Shall I go with you, dear little maiden.
With vow red rosv cheeks and your black eurlv hair"
PURCELL
Nymphs and shepherds pipe and play, pipe and play,
Nymphs and shepherds pipe and play, pipe and play,
Pipe, pipe and play, and play.
Tune a song, tune a song, a festal lay,
A festal lay, a festal lay,
For this, this is Flora's holiday.
Lightly we tread o'er all the ground,
With music, with dancing,
With music, with dancing and with poetry.
Thus trip we round, trip we round, trip we round,
Trip we round with merry sound
And pass the day, and pass the day in jollity.
OLD CORNISH
"With all my heart, my kind little man,1' she said, "'Tis dabbling in the dew makes the milkmaids fair."
"Say, shall I wed you, dear little maiden, With your red rosy cheeks and your black curly hair" "With that I agree, my kind little man," she said, "'Tis dabbling in the dew makes the milkmaids fair."
4. a. CANTATA--"Vittoria,"
Victorious my heart is And tears are in vain,
For love now has broken Its shackles in twain.
MRS. HENSCHEL
The false one is vanquish'd, Her glances amuse me,
Deception no longer With arts can confuse me.
CARISSIMI No falsehood or sorrow
Oppress me with rigor, The flame once so cruel
Has spent all its vigor.
Victorious my heart, is, etc.
b. SONG-"Wohin,
I heard a brooklet rushing
From its rocky fountain neaiv Adown the valley rushing'
So fresh and wond'rous clear. I know not what came o'er me
Nor who the counsel gave. But I must hasten downward,
All with my pilgrim stave. Still downward and even farther
And ever the brook beside. While ever fresher murmur'd
And clearer ran the tide.
SCHUBERT
Is this the way I was going
Oh! Brooklet, whether say Thou hast, with thy soft murmur.
My senses charmed away; What do I call a murmur,
That can no murmur be The water Nymphs are singing
Their roundelays for me. Oh! Let them sing and wander,
And blithely murmur near, The wheels of a mill are going
In everv brooklet clear!
c ROMANCE--"So willst du des Armen,"
Wilt deign to be near me, Forever to cheer me This is not a dream
The brooklets are flowing, The greenwoods are glowing. And murmurs the .streams.
A prisoner taken, In dungeon forsaken. Now greets me the light.
The sunbeams are straying, And gleaming and playing. Rejoicing my sight.
BRAHMS
And shall I enjoy, love, Can no man destroy, love, The prize of a day
Bright visions are moving. And living is loving. Oh! welcome the way!
Now joyous, uncaring. No further be faring, With staff in thy hand.
Through wastes that surround it. At last thou' hast found it. The holiest land.
MR. HENSCHEL
5. a. "Die Loreley,"
I know not whence comes the feeling That I to sadness am so inclined:
A legend of days departed I cannot chase from my mind.
The breeze comes soft, the day is fading, And peaceful flows the Rhine;
The hill-tops all brightly gleaming In evening sunlight shine.
And yonder sits a maiden
Of wondrous beauty rare; With gold and with jewels sparkling,
She combs her golden hair.
LISZT
With comb of bright gold she combs it, And sings with mournful sigh
A song of enchanting power, A magic melody.
The boatman in frail bark gliding, Bewilder'd by love's sweet pain,
He sees not the rocky ledges, His eyes on the height remain.
The billows surrounding engulf him, Both bark and boatman are gone!
This sorrow by charmed singing The Lorelev hath clone.
b. "Der Nussbaum,"
An almond tree grows beside a cot. Tenderly the branches O'ershadow that tranquil spot.
And countless fair blossoms are clustered there, Op'ning their pearly leaflets Unto the wooing air.
The branches are softly whispering now. Playing, swaying, and kissing. As bough entwines with bough.
SCHUMANN
They tell of a little maiden With love-thoughts o'erladen, She dreams night and day. Now her thoughts could she say.
They whisper,but who may guess at what she mayhear P'rhaps of a bridegroom, who'll come next year.
The maid still hears them; The tree still sighs. Longing, trusting, hoping-Slumber doth close her eyes.
c. "Tausendschoen," Op. 56, No. 3,
And a bridge and a burn, Through the woods must thou turn, On the heights, by the pine. There blooms Eglantine.
To the brook 't seems to say "Take me with thee. I pray," Oh, so try. then, and see, Down the vale rurr with me.
HENSCHEL
Down the vale run with me, By the bridge soon thou'lt be, There a house stands close by, And a lad thou'lt espy.
By the house halt and stay, For he longeth to say: "Dearest Heart, do not fear, Come, I'll plant thee just here."
MRS. HENSCHEL
DUET--"Oh that we two were Maying,"
Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze, Like children with violets playing
In the shade of the whispering trees.
Oh! that we two sat dreaming On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down.
HENSCHEL
Watching the white mist streaming O'er river and mead and town.
Oh! that we two lay sleeping
In our nest in the churchyard sod, With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast.
And our souls at home with God.
MR. AND MRS. HENSCHEL
7. a. SONG-"Aufersterin" (Resurrection', Op. 57, No. 3,
R;s3 again, yea, rise again thou shalt. My dust, from short repose; Immortal liveth The soul thy maker giveth! Hallelujah!
Day of thanks, oh, day of tearful joy, Thou, my Creator's day! From my last slumber Thou, who my days dost number, Thou'lt wake me. L rd!
HENSCHEL
Like a dream of bliss it all will seem; In place serene we pass To endless gladness. The weary pilgrim's sadness Shall be no more.
Ah! into the holiest of lands My Maker will lead me; On high then living, I'll praise Him with thanksgiving! Hallelujah!
b. BALLAD, "The Ruined Mill,"
Alone, in rapt and silent mood. The old Count rides into the wood: He rides along o'er stone and thorn. And at his side swing sword and horn.
Still darker grows the way. and wild. As frowning rock on rock is piled. When ruins of a mill appear But naught alive, or far or near.
In pieces lie the millstones all, No mill-wheel drives the waterfall, Thro' open roof the welkin peeps O'er scattered rocks, and weeds in heaps.
One only settle can he see; There seats himself the gloomy guest, And folds his arms upon his breast; H is eyes they close unconsciously.
Then into life starts all around! The works with thunder thump resound; The water roars, the greenwood stirs, With merry clack the mill-wheel whirs.
And see! how, in and out, the boys Bear sacks thro" all the rush and noise,
LOEWE
And from the mill-race, erst so drear, The miller greets wich friendly cheer.
Now down the path flies, skipping; light, His pretty daughter, young and bright: Her face--no sky more clear and fair, Her braids go dancing in the air.
She meets the Count and proffers him The sparkling glass of liquid gold: Well feels he, as he felt of old, His heart in love's young dream to swim.
And, blandly smiling on the lass, He reaches forth to take the glass; But, when he clutches it with haste, 'Tisonly air to touch or taste!
All vanished now are glass and wine, The miller and his daughter fine; No mill-wheel goes, no water pours, Only the wind thro' rafters roars.
Upon his coal-black steed again He flings himself and rides amain! Along the wood rides dumb and meek, xnd shakes a tear-drop from his cheek.
r. BALLAD -"Henry the Fowler,"
Sire Henry spreads the fowler"s snare With blithe and cheerful face:
In thousand dewdrop.s gleam and glare Aurora's glowing rays.
1 n forest, pasture, field and lea.
All nature seems to hail-[glee.
The quail's soft call, the lark's sweet
The lonely nightingale.
Sire Henry's full of happiness: ¦"How is the world so gay !"
He gazes to the sky, and says. "I'll have a catch to-day !':
He listens sharp, and from his brow Brushes his golden locks: [now
"Behold, what mean these horsemen Galloping; near yon rocks"
The dust whirls up; the trampling steeds The sounds of arms draw near:
LOEWE
¦Oh sure: this noise is all that needs To spoil ray catch. I fear !"
Yucl now--what now '; Before the Duke
The troop halts unaware; Sire Henry asks, with mild rebuke.
"Whom do ye seek 'i Declare !"
1'hey wave their flags with joyful song. And shout, ''Whom else but thee 'i
Mug live our Emperor Henry, long. The star of Saxony !"
Vnd kneeling down before the Duke, They give him homage still,
Vnd answer to his wond'ring look. 'Tis German people's will !"
fhere Henry gazes ardently
To heaven, with the word: ¦A goodly catch thou gavest me.
Thv will be done. O Lord !!1
MR. HENSCHEL
8. a. SONG-"Midi au village,"
¦ Nul U-oupeau n'erre in ne hroulc.
Le burger s'allonge a 1 i-art, ' La poussiC-re dort sur le.s routes
Le churretier sur le brancard.
Un vent ohaud traine ses echarpes Sur les grands ble lourds de sommeil.
b. SONG"Margoton,"
l'cggy with her pitcher
To the spring' did hie: Down she tumbled to the bottom. The well was nearly dry Oh. dear ' oh, dear! oh. dear ! oh. dear!
Does little Pe'gy cry.
The water in the well was low.
And at trie bottom she did lie: Three fine young fellows there
By chance were passing by: Oh. dear! oh. dear! oh. dear! oh. dear!
Does little Peggy cry.
GORING THOMAS
Kl les inouehes se font des harpes Avec les rayons de soleil.
( "est alors que de la fen£tre
S'entendcnt tout en pai'lant bas.
1'his libres qu'a niinuit peut-£tre. Les amants qui ne dorment pas.
OLD FRENCH
Three fine young1 fellows thei'e By chance were passing by:
What, fair one. will you give We'll draw you high and dry.
h. dear! oh. dear! oh. dear! oh. dear! Does little Peggy cry.
What, fair one. will you giv.e
To be drawn high and dry The sweetest kiss I'll give.
No golden coin have I. Oh. dearl oh. dear! oh. dear! oh. dear!
Does little Peggy cry.
HENSCHEL
c. SONG "Spring."
Spring, sweet Spring,
Is the year's pleasant King.
.Then blooms each thing:
Then maids dance in a ring;
('old doth not sting.
The pretty birds do sing
('uckoo. cuckoo, lug. jug. jug. jug. pu-we.
To witta-woo!
The palm and May.
Make country houses gay.
Lambs frisk and play.
The shepherds pipe all day.
And we hear. aye.
Birds tune their merry lay,
Cuckoo, cuckoo, .lug, jug. jug', juy. pu-we.
To witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet.
The daisies kiss our feet.
Young lovers meet,
Old wives a-sunnlng sit,
In ev'ry. street
These tunes our ears do greet.
Cuckoo, cuckoo. Jug. jug. jug'. jug. ]iu-ve.
To wittu-woo!
MRS. HENSCHEL
9. DUET from "De Nouveaa Seigneur de Village,"
Fmnlin--I will stay in this place.
Then you will have no fear. Hithtl-If you stay in that place.
Then I shall have no fear.
Frontin--How charming she is, and what grace ! ISnIiH-You're quite too kind, dear sir. Fmnlin--Assuredly I ne'er before
Saw prettier woman to adore.
But stay, never before my eye
Did so many beauties espy. Ilii'ml-Good sir!
No more you keep your place.
No more of (John now you say. Front in --If I no more so keep my place, s. ' Tis when with vou I feel so yaw
BOIELDIEU
lldlxl--Ah. my g'ood sir,
If in your place you'll stay. i 'I hen 1 shall know no fear. i'Y(m--Very well. I will obey,
Babet I so. then, ray dear.
('olin to please ou knew,
Do you doubt to please he understoodV
Colin is so sweet, so good!
His bearing's quite refined. Puh(1-[ like his air and spirit bold. Frotilin--I hear he's verv kind. llithit Sir. quite rig'htlv lou've been told! Fnntlin -No longer ou now keep jour place! iUthcl-Because of Colin spoke jour grace!
MR. AND MRS. HENSCHEL
Chickering Piano Used.