At this unwonted hour (Benjamin Cuzens)

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  • (Posted 2021-06-06)  CPDL #64664:  Network.png
Editor: Christopher Shaw (submitted 2021-06-06).   Score information: A4, 5 pages, 1 MB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes: Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download. The current edition comprises a choral score with organ reduction of both vocal and instrumental parts, and three separate instrumental parts. The anthem may therefore be performed with instrumental accompaniment as preferred.

General Information

Title: At this unwonted hour
Composer: Benjamin Cuzens
Lyricist: Anon
Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: SacredAnthem

Language: English
Instruments: Mixed ensemble

First published: 1787
Description: Christmas Ode, less akin to oratorio than to children's nativity play, from "Divine Harmony. Six Anthems and a Christmas Ode each in score, calculated for country choirs and interspersed with symphonies but may be occasionally performed without them. Composed by Benjamin Cuzens Portsmouth Common". London, 1787. The text is an unattributed piece of poetastery frequently anthologised in collections of improving works and conversation pieces from c.1750 and for the next eighty years.

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

[First Shepherd]
At this unwonted hour, behold
What strikes my wand'ring soul with fear!
How all yon east is streak'd with gold,
As if the op'ning morn was near.

[Second Shepherd]
I mark it, now the streams unite,
One pillar now of moving light;
My soul too shakes, it sinks, it dies.
See! Through the air the vision flies.

[Third Shepherd]
Heav'n shield us, lo, 'tis just at hand,
Some strange event impends;
O'erhead direct it seems to stand,
And now the blaze descends.

Ye shepherds, all your fears design,
I come not arm'd with wrath divine,
But fraught with heav'nly love.
The news, the welcome news I bring,
Sounds loud from ev'ry sacred thing,
Through all yon realms above.

I come, and 'tis a blest employ,
I come, the messenger of joy,
Go publish what I sing.
Earth is no more a scene forlorn,
This night the promis'd Christ is born,
Your saviour and your king.

At Bethlem, in a manger, lies
The swaddl'd babe; let raptures rise
Round this terrestrial ball.
The raptures catch from heart to heart,
Till all shall feel, till all impart,
For Christ was born for all.

[Chorus of Angels and Shepherds]
Glory to God in strains till now unknown,
From ev'ry glowing seraph round his throne.
Peace to this globe, all worlds admire the plan
Of heav'n's free benevolence to man.