Name: Autumn Sorrow
Duration: 6 min 8 s
Channel: George MacDonald / Eric M. Pazdziora
Description: "Autumn Sorrow" is a song by Eric Pazdziora. from the song cycle 'Phantastes: Seven Songs from a story by George MacDonald. Performed by Virginia Glinski / Mona Coalter.

Autumn Sorrow

Eric Pazdziora

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Single $1

Album $7

from the song cycle 'Phantastes: Seven Songs from a story by George MacDonald. Performed by Virginia Glinski / Mona Coalter.

hymns contemporary classical choral film scores piano improvisations hymn arrangements praise and worship songs

Eric Pazdziora

A Christian composer, pianist, and songwriter with Celtic, Classical, and Contemporary influenced hymns, worship songs, and art music

Eric Pazdziora is a freelance composer, pianist, and worship leader specializing in a wide variety of musical styles. His compositions range from full orchestral works to simple congregational worship songs and hymns. He is a graduate of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, with a Bachelor of Music degree in Sacred Music Composition.

Song Info

Genre

Classical • Contemporary

Charts

Peak #422

Peak in subgenre #109

Author

George MacDonald / Eric M. Pazdziora

Rights

Uploaded

March 25, 2008

Track Files

MP3

MP3 5.6 MB • 128 kbps • 6:08

Lyrics

Autumn Sorrow

She watched them dying for many a day,
Dropping from off the old trees away,
One by one; or else in a shower
Crowding over the withered flower
And helplessly hung each shrivelled leaf,
Faded away with an idle grief.
And the giant trees, as bare as Death,
Slowly bowed to the great Wind's breath;
And groaned with trying to keep from groaning
Amidst the young trees bending and moaning.
Nature lived in sadness now;
Sadness lived on the maiden's brow,
As she watched, with a fixed, half-conscious eye,
One lonely leaf that trembled on high,
Till it dropped at last from the desolate bough--
Sorrow, oh, sorrow! 'tis winter now.

Oh! many and many a dreary year
Must pass away ere the buds appear:
Many a night of darksome sorrow
Yield to the light of a joyless morrow,
Ere birds again, on the clothed trees,
Shall fill the branches with melodies.
She will dream of meadows with wakeful streams;
Of wavy grass in the sunny beams;
Of hidden wells that soundless spring,
Hoarding their joy as a holy thing;
Of founts that tell it all day long
To the listening woods, with exultant song;
She will dream of evenings that die into nights,
Where each sense is filled with its own delights,
And the soul is still as the vaulted sky,
Lulled with an inner harmony;

She will wake and see the branches bare,
Weaving a net in the frozen air.

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