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I Hear Thee Trumpeter
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Poem by Walt Whitman, music by John Mitchell; Jeffrey Stackhouse, bass-baritone.
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No other contemporary composer's style is so fiercely independent, with influences ranging from Beethoven and Hindemith to hard rock, and poetic sources as dive
No other contemporary composer's style is so fiercely independent, with influences ranging from Beethoven and Hindemith to hard rock, and poetic sources as diverse as Sylvia Plath and the ancient Tibetan Dzyan. Songs, operas, chamber music, choral music, and works for solo piano and organ.
Song Info
Charts
#5,121 today Peak #84
#2,200 in subgenre Peak #39
Author
Walt Whitman/John Mitchell
Rights
John Mitchell
Uploaded
November 18, 2002
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.7 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
HARK, some wild trumpeter, some strange musician, Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night. I hear thee trumpeter, listening alert I catch thy notes, Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me, Now low, subdued, now in the distance lost. Come nearer bodiless one, haply in thee resounds Some dead composer, haply thy pensive life Was fill'd with aspirations high, unform'd ideals, Waves, oceans musical, chaotically surging, That now ecstatic ghost, close to me bending, thy cornet echoing, pealing, Gives out to no one's ears but mine, but freely gives to mine, That I may thee translate. Blow trumpeter free and clear, I follow thee, While at thy liquid prelude, glad, serene, The fretting world, the streets, the noisy hours of day withdraw, A holy calm descends like dew upon me, I walk in cool refreshing night the walks of Paradise, I scent the grass, the moist air and the roses; Thy song expands my numb'd imbonded spirit, thou freest,launchest me Floating and basking upon heaven's lake.
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