Sylvia (Truman Wetmore)

From ChoralWiki
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Music files

L E G E N D Disclaimer How to download
Icon_pdf.gif Pdf
Icon_snd.gif Midi
MusicXML.png MusicXML
Musc3.png MuseScore3
File details.gif File details
Question.gif Help
  • (Posted 2020-10-07)  Oval notes: CPDL #60824:          Score information: Letter, 1 page, 56 kB   Copyright: Public Domain
  • (Posted 2020-10-07)  4-Shape notes: CPDL #60823:        Score information: 7 x 10 inches (landscape), 1 page, 52 kB   Copyright: Public Domain
Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2020-10-07).  
Edition notes: Transcribed from Stephen Jenks' The Delights of Harmony. The first stanza included.

General Information

Title: Sylvia
First Line: Let music roll in mournful strains
Composer: Truman Wetmore
Lyricist: Truman Wetmore

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred   Meter: 88. 88. D (L.M.D.)

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1805 in The Delights of Harmony, or Norfolk Compiler
Description: "Words and music by Dr. Wetmore, on the death of his wife," with four stanzas.

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

1. Let music roll in mournful strains,
While death his prisoner binds in chains;
Each harper dressed in grief's attire,
While sorrow tunes her mournful lyre!
Awake, awake, each silent string,
With melting notes new sorrows bring,
Till on the dirge my spirit flies
To the dark shade where Sylvia lies!

2. Huge troubles rise on every side,
Like the fierce ocean's rapid tide;
The raging billows ceaseless roar,
Proclaim, my Sylvia is no more!
Her spirit's winged from earth away,
To realms of woe or endless day,
To join the joyful throng above,
In praising Christ's' eternal love.


3. O cruel tyrant! monster death!
To stop so soon my Sylvia's breath
To deck in mourning garbs of woe,
The face of nature where I go.
What mighty sorrows veil the land,
The lofty hills in mourning stand.
The crystal streams in sorrow glide
And roll to meet the swelling tide!

4. Ye silent groves and meadows wail.
While anguish moves in every gale ;
On swifter wings let nature fly,
To bear inv troubled soul on high.
There let me find my Sylvia dear,
Where death and sorrow reign no more.
Our souls once more in friendship blend,
Where rolling ages never end.