Complete Series: LXXXIV
University Musical Soci6iv,
F. W. KELSEY. President. A. A. STANLEY. Director.
Choral dnton Series.
Eleventh Season J899--1900 Fifth Concert
(NO. LXXXIY COMPLETE SERIES.)
rriday Evening, February 23, 1900.
Mrs. Seaburg C. rord, Soprano,
Miss nabelle Crawford, Contralto,
Mr. Mackenzie Gordon, Tenor,
Mr. David Bispham, Baritone, Miss Adella Prentiss, Pianist,
MISCELLANEOUS PROGRAM and the Song Cycle
IN A PERSIAN GARDEN.
UNIVERSITY SCHOOL OF MUSIC. FACULTY CONCERTS,
Second Semester, 1900.
March 8, April 5, April 26, May 3, June 7.
Pupils' Recitals and Graduation Concerts will be announced as occasion demands.
PROGRAM PART I.
1. a The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington,
b Drink to me only with thine eyes, , _,, _
. I KOld English
c O, so sweet is she, ...
d The pretty Creature, Mr. Bispham.
2. a Aria--Ah non credea (Mignon) A. Thonas b Thine only Bohtn
3. a A Song of Four Seasons Foote b Serenade Richard Strauss c Spring Â¦ Henschel
4. a Non piu andrai (Marriage of Figaro) Mozart b O, du mein holder Abendstern (Tannhauser) Wagner c Quand 'ero Paggio (Falstaff) ... Verdi d Toreador's Song (Carmen) ... Bizet
IN A PERSIAN GARDEN
Text Selected from
THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM
Music composed by
In a Persian Garden.
Wake! For the Sun who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the field of night, Drives night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's turret with a shaft of Light.
Before the phantom of false morning died Methought a voice within the Tavern cried: " When all the temple is prepared within Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside "
Now the new year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the " White Hand of Moses " on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows.
But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the water blows.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling. The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly--and lo, the Bird is on the wing !
Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
Ah, not a drop that from our Cups we throw For Earth to drink of, but may_ steal below, To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye, There hidden, far beneath, and long ago.
I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled, That ey'ry Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head.
And this reviving Herb, whose tender green, Fledges the river-lip on which we lean,-Ah---lean upon it lightly--for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen.
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-Ah, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint and heard great argument-......But evermore
Came out by that same door where in I went.
With them the Seed of Wisdom, did I sow, And with my own Hand labour'd it to grow, And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd, " I came like Water, and like Wind I go."
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their words to scorn
Are scatter'd and their mouths are stopped with Dust.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend!
When you and I behind the veil are past
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last-But if the Soul can fling the Dust aside And naked on the air of Heaven ride, Were't not a shame--were't not a shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide
I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some secret of that after-life to spell, And by-and-bye my Soul return'd to me And answer'd: I myself am Heav'n and Hell.
Heav'n but the vision of fulfilled Desire And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which ourselves So late emerged from, shall so soon expire.
Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose ! That youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close ! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence and whither flown again who knows -The worldly hope men set their Hearts upon Turn Ashes, or it prospers, and anon Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty face, Lighting a little hour or two--is gone.
Think in this batter'd Caravanserai, Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp, Abode his destined hour and went his way,
Waste not your hour !
Each morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes,--but where leaves the Rose of yesterday -And this first Summer month that brings the Rose, Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep, And Bahram, that wild Hunter,--the wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his sleep.
Lo, some we lov'd, the lovliest and best That from his Vintage rolling time has prest, Have drank their Cup a round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest.
Strange, is it not, that of the myriads who Before us pass'd the Door of Darkness through Not one returns to tell us of the Road Which to discover we must travel too.
Ah, fill the Cup! What boots it to repeat How time is slipping underneath our Feet.
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter Fruit.
Ah, Love, could you and I with Fate conspire To grasp the sorry Scheme of things entire, Would we not shatter it to bits--and then Remould it nearer to the Heart's Desire !
Ah, Moon of Delight, that knows no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again-How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same garden after me--in vain.
And when thyself with shining Foot shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass !
As then the Tulip for her morning sup Of Heav'nly Vintage from the Soil looks up, Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink,
At last shall find you by the river-brmk,
And, offering his Cup, mvite your Soul
Forth to your lips to quaff--you shall not shrink.
Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose, That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence and whither flown again, who knows
Thursday, Friday and Saturday, May 17, 1 8 and 19.
ARTISTS AND ORGANIZATIONS.
EMMA JUCH-WELLMAN, Soprano
SARA ANDERSON, Soprano
MADAME SCHUMANN-HEINK, Contralto
ISABELLE BOUTON, Contralto
EVAN WILLIAMS, ... Tenor
GEORGE W. JENKINS, Â¦ Tenor
DAVID BISPHAM, Baritone
GWILYM MILES, ... Baritone
WILLIAM A. HOWLAND, Bass
BERNARD STURM, Violinist
THE BOSTON FESTIVAL ORCHESTRA AND CHORAL UNION, Emil MoIInhauer and Albert A. Stanley, Conductors.
SCHEDULE OF PRICES.
Tickets for Entire Series (10 Concerts), including May Festi
val, -----.....$3 00
Ticket for May Festival only (5 Concerts) $3 00
Single Admission Tickets, ------$1 00
Single Admission for Friday Evening Concert, j$2 00
Reserved Seats for May Festival, $1.00 Extra
Reserved Seats for Single Concert for May Festival, 50 and 25 Cents.
Out of town parties can secure tickets and reserved seats by addressing Thomas C. Colburn, Secretary of the University School of Music. Both 'Phones
SCHEDULE OF CONCERTS.
Thursday Evening, May 17, 5:00 o'clock, Miscellaneous Program.
Friday Afternoon, Mav 15, 3:00 o'clock, Symphony Concert.
rriday Evening, May 15, 5:00 o'clock, Miscellaneous Program.
Saturday Afternoon, May 19, 3:00 o'clock, Orchestral Matinee.
Saturday Evening, May 19, 5:00 o'clock, Choral Concert.
List of Works. Choral Works.
"TheLilvNvmph," "Hora Novlsslma,"
Svmphonv In 0,
Suite In D,
Suite in D minor (Two movements)
Serenade ('Cello Solo and String Orchestra)
Suite," Indian" Overtures, "Lenore" Nos. 2 and 3,
Overture, "Tragic" Overture, "Oedipus" Overture, "in der Natur,"
Selection from "Walkuere,"
Kronungs Marsch Testival March, Concerto, Q. Minor, (Violin) Mozart
John Kno-wles Paine
Henry K. Hadley
This list of works Is bv no means complete but will serve to give a general Idea of the character of fhe Festival.