Emancipation Proclamation Concert

Texts + Translations

Spiritual: In This Lan’

Spiritual / arr. Anthony Trecek-King

BACH: from Cantata BWV 2, "Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein"

Text: Martin Luther

Lord help the po’ and the needy,
In this lan’
In that great getting up morning we shall face another sun,
Lord help the po’ and the needy
Lord help the motherless children
In this lan’
In that great getting up morning we shall face another sun,
Lord help the po’ and the needy
Lord help the long tongue liar
In this lan’
In that great getting up morning we shall face another sun,
Lord help the po’ and the needy

Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein
Und laß dich's doch erbarmen!
Wie wenig sind der Heilgen dein,
Verlassen sind wir Armen;
Dein Wort man nicht läßt haben wahr,
Der Glaub ist auch verloschen gar
Bei allen Menschenkindern.

Ah God, from heaven look on us
and grant us yet thy mercy!
How few are found thy saints to be,
forsaken are we wretches;
Thy word is not upheld as true,
and faith is also now quite dead
among all mankind's children.

Bach translation
© Z. Philip Ambrose, translator.
Web publication: http://www.uvm.edu/~classics/faculty/bach

Poem: "Ocean"

By Phillis Wheatley

Spiritual: I Want to Go Home

Text: Traditional

Now muse divine, thy heav'nly aid impart,
The feast of Genius, and the play of Art.
From high Parnassus' radiant top repair,
Celestial Nine! propitious to my pray'r.
In vain my Eyes explore the wat'ry reign,
By you unaided with the flowing strain.
When first old Chaos of tyrannic soul
Wav'd his dread Sceptre o'er the boundless whole,
Confusion reign'd till the divine Command
On floating azure fix'd the Solid Land,
Till first he call'd the latent seeds of light,
And gave dominion o'er eternal Night.
From deepest glooms he rais'd this ample Ball,
And round its walls he bade its surges roll;
With instant haste the new made seas complyd,
And the globe rolls impervious to the Tide;
Yet when the mighty Sire of Ocean frownd
“His awful trident shook the solid Ground.”
The King of Tempests thunders o'er the plain,
And scorns the azure monarch of the main,
He sweeps the surface, makes the billows rore,
And furious, lash the loud resounding shore.
His pinion'd race his dread commands obey,
Syb's, Eurus, Boreas, drive the foaming sea!
See the whole stormy progeny descend!
And waves on waves devolving without End,
But cease Eolus, all thy winds restrain,
And let us view the wonders of the main
Where the proud Courser paws the blue abode,
Impetuous bounds, and mocks the driver's rod.
There, too, the Heifer fair as that which bore
Divine Europa to the Cretan shore.
With guileless mein the gentle Creature strays[,]
Quaffs the pure stream, and crops ambrosial Grass[.]

Again with recent wonder I survey
The finny sov'reign bask in hideous play[.]
(So fancy sees) he makes a tempest rise
And intercept the azure vaulted skies[.]
Such is his sport:—but if his anger glow
What kindling vengeance boils the deep below!
Twas but e'er now an Eagle young and gay
Pursu'd his passage thro' the aierial way[.]
He aim'd his piece, would C[ale]f's hand do more [?]
Yes, him he brought to pluto's dreary shore[.]
Slow breathed his last, the painful minutes move
With lingring pace his rashness to reprove;
Perhaps his father's Just commands he bore
To fix dominion on some distant shore[.]
Ah! me unblest he cries[.] Oh! had I staid
Or swift my Father's mandate had obey['d.]
But ah! too late.—Old Ocean heard his cries[.]
He stroakes his hoary tresses and replies[:]
What mean these plaints so near our wat'ry throne,
And what the Cause of this distressful moan?
Confess[,] Iscarius, let thy words be true
Not let me find a faithless Bird in you[.]
His voice struck terror thro' the whole domain[.]
Aw'd by his frowns the royal youth began,
Saw you not[,] Sire, a tall and Gallant ship
Which proudly skims the surface of the deep[?]
With pompous form from Boston's port she came[,]
She flies, and London her resounding name[.]
O'er the rough surge the dauntless Chief prevails
For partial Aura fills his swelling sails[.]
His fatal musket shortens thus my day
And thus the victor takes my life away[.]
Faint with his wound Iscarius said no more[,]
His Spirit sought Oblivion's sable shore.
This Neptune saw, and with a hollow groan
Resum'd the azure honours of his Throne.

There's no rain to wet you.
O, yes, I want to go home.
There's no sun to burn you.
O, yes, I want to go home .
There's no hard trials.
O, yes, I want to go home .
There's no whips a-crackin'.
O, yes, I want to go home.
There’s no stormy weather,
O, yes, I want to go home.

Handel: From Chandos Anthem No. 2, "In the Lord I Put My Trust"

Text: Psalms 11, 1

My Heart Be Brave

Text: James Weldon Johnson

In the Lord put I my trust! How say you then to
my soul she shall flee as a bird unto the hill?

My heart be brave,
And do not falter so.
Nor utter more,
That deep despairing wail.
My heart be brave,
Be very dark and drear I know
But do not let thy strength and courage fail;
For certain as the raven winged night
Is followed by the bright and blushing morn,
Coming morrow will be clear and bright,
‘Tis darkest when the night is furthest worn.
Look up and out,
Look out, beyond surrounding clouds,
And do not in thine own darkness grope,
Rise up and casting off thy hind’ring shrouds
Rise up, cling thou to this,
And e‘er inspiring hope
Tho’ thick the battle and tho’ fierce the fight.
There is power in making for the right.

My Country! 'Tis of thee

Text: A.G. Duncan

Spiritual: Deep River

Text: Traditional

My country! ’tis of thee,
Stronghold of slavery,
Of thee I sing:
Land where my fathers died,
Where men man’s rights deride,
From every mountainside,
Thy deeds shall ring.

My native country! thee,
Where all men are born free,
If white their skin:
I love thy hills and dales,
Thy mounts and pleasant vales,
But hate thy negro sales,
As foulest sin.

Let wailing swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees,
The black man’s wrong;
Let every tongue awake,
Let bond and free partake,
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Our Father’s God! To thee,
Author of Liberty,
To thee we sing;
Soon may our land be bright,
With holy freedom’s right,
Protect us by they might,
Great God, our King.

Deep river, my home is over Jordan.
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.
Deep river, my home is over Jordan.
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.
Oh, don't you want to go to that gospel feast,
that promised land where all is peace?
Deep river, my home is over Jordan
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.
Deep river, my home is over Jordan.
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.

Mendelssohn: "Nun danket alle Gott mit Herzen, Mund and Händen" from Lobgesang

Text: Martin Rinkart

Gibbs: Wade in the Water

Text: Traditional

Nun danket alle Gott, mit Herzen, Mund und Händen.
Der sich in aller Not will gnädig zu uns wenden,
der so viel Gutes tut; von Kindesbeinen an,
uns hielt in seiner Hut, und allen wohl getan.
Lob, Ehr’ und Preis sie Gott, dem Vater und dem Sohne.
Und seinem heil’gen Geist im höchsten Himmelsthrone.
Lob dem dreiein’gen Geist, der Nacht und Dunkel schied
von Licht und Morgenroth. Ihm danket unser Lied.

Now thank we all our God, with hearts, mind and hands.
He turns mercifully to us in all our needs.
He is so good to us; keeps us in His protection, from our childhood on,
and does all things for us.
Praise, honour and glory be to God, the Father and the Son.
And to His Holy Spirit on most high heaven's throne.
Praise to the triune Spirit,
Who parts night and darkness from light and dawn. Our song in thanks to Him.

Wade in de water
Wade in de water, children
Wade in de water
‘Cause my God's a gonna trouble de water.

See dat man all dressed in red,
Mus’ be da children dat Moses led,

See dat man all dressed in white,
Mus’ be da children of the Israelites.

Lift Every Voice and Sing

Text: James Weldon Johnson

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us,
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun
Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears have been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, Our God, where we met Thee;
Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand.
True to our God,
True to our native land

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