A small textual preview

The centerpiece of the Back Bay Chorale concert I'm about to sing on November 3 is Haydn's Missa in Anguistis (Lord Nelson Mass), but my favorite thing that we're doing is the gorgeous "Take Him, Earth, for Cherishing," by Herbert Howells, which was commissioned for JFK's funeral. Besides the lush and surprising harmonies, the piece also offers a beautiful and chilling text by 4th century Catholic poet Prudentius, translated by Helen Waddell.

Ordinarily, Christian texts don't do a lot for me, but something about the combined sadness and celebration of this one, along with the direct address to the earth, really moves me. The music complements it perfectly, beginning with a simple chantlike tune, moving into a duet, then bursting into imploring, haunting harmony at "Guard him well." From there the piece ebbs and flows, weaving together the mystery of God, the solemnity of death, the joy of reunion with the everlasting, and the humanity of grief.

Here it is.



Take him, earth, for cherishing,
to thy tender breast receive him.
Body of a man I bring thee,
noble even in its ruin.

Once was this a spirit's dwelling,
by the breath of God created.
High the heart that here was beating,
Christ the prince of all its living.

Guard him well, the dead I give thee,
not unmindful of his creature
shall he ask it: he who made it
symbol of his mystery.

Comes the hour God hath appointed
to fulfil the hope of men,
then must thou, in very fashion,
what I give, return again.

Not though ancient time decaying
wear away these bones to sand,
ashes that a man might measure
in the hollow of his hand:

Not though wandering winds and idle,
drifting through the empty sky,
scatter dust was nerve and sinew,
is it given to man to die.

Once again the shining road
leads to ample Paradise;
open are the woods again,
that the serpent lost for men.

Take, O take him, mighty leader,
take again thy servant's soul.
Grave his name, and pour the fragrant
balm upon the icy stone.