Blake Reimagined (2017-2019)

Duration: 17 minutes

Commissioned by: Dr. Galit Kaunitz and Dr. Jonathan Yarrington from the University of Southern Mississippi for their project with William Blake's poetry.

Performed by: Dr. Galit Kaunitz, oboe and David Walker, tenor

Program Note: A setting of William Blake's poetry found in the public domain and used freely with this distinction.

I.  The Argument

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burdened air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path,
The just man kept his course along
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow,
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted:
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;
And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth.

Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility,
And the just man rages in the wilds
Where lions roam.

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burdened air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep. 

II.  Some men, created for destruction, come

SOME men, created for destruction, come
Into the world, and make the world their home.
Be they as vile and base as e’er they can,
They’ll still be called ‘The World’s Honest Man.’ 

III. I Saw a Chapel

I saw a chapel all of gold 
That none did dare to enter in 
And many weeping stood without 
Weeping mourning worshipping 

I saw a serpent rise between 
The white pillars of the door 
And he forcd & forcd & forcd 
Down the golden hinges tore 

And along the pavement sweet 
Set with pearls and rubies bright 
All his slimy length he drew 
Till upon the altar white  

Vomiting his poison out 
On the bread & on the wine
So I turnd into a sty 
And laid me down among the swine  

IV. The Clod and the Pebble

"Love seeketh not itself to please, 
Nor for itself hath any care, 
But for another gives its ease, 
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair." 

So sung a little Clod of Clay 
Trodden with the cattle's feet, 
But a Pebble of the brook 
Warbled out these metres meet: 

 "Love seeketh only self to please, 
To bind another to its delight, 
Joys in another's loss of ease, 
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite." 

V. The sword sun on the barren heath

The SWORD sung on the barren heath,
The sickle in the fruitful field:
The sword he sung a song of death,
But could not make the sickle yield

VI.  Chorus

Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren whom, tyrant, he calls free, lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious lechery call that virginity, that wishes but acts not!

For every thing that lives is Holy.