Songs of Envious Time

Program Notes:

(Aubade) Tovey, Music Director of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, wrote a suite of three Jacobean songs for Elektra in 2012, called “Songs of Envious Time”. In this first movement on a poem by Sir William Davenant (1603 – 1663), the scene is a bedroom at dawn, where we hear the lark sing outside the window. The second verse describes various tradesmen who have to get up early. But why should a lover?

(Corinna’s Going a-Maying) This is the second of the Songs of Envious Time, offering the words of Robert Herrick (1591-1674) in a delightful, pleading entreaty from one young person to another to get out of bed on a beautiful spring morning to go “a-Maying”. “Take no care for jewels for your gown or hair: Wash, dress, be brief in praying…” and get outside to find love while we’re still young.

(An Epitaph Upon Husband and Wife) In the third and final movement of Songs of Envious Time, we hear of a husband and wife who are reunited, lying side by side in the “marriage bed” of their shared grave.

Conductor Notes:

SSA and various orchestrations; This suite of three pieces comprises “Aubade” (the morning equivalent of a Serenade), “Corinna’s Going A-Maying” and “An Epitaph Upon Husband and Wife”. Commissioned by Elektra for our second Tapestry International Celebration of Women’s Choirs in 2012, the work was originally scored with accompaniment of brass quintet and organ. We later performed it with piano alone, and in 2014 performed an orchestration by the composer for string orchestra, flutes, horn, and percussion. All have their merits, but the orchestrated version is preferable, in my view.

The texts are by 17th Century English poets Davenant, Herrick, and Crashaw. The first and third are slow and evocative. The middle movement is nimble and enthusiastic. The harmonic language is challenging but very satisfying. Tessituras are high.

Durations: Aubade: 2:20 Corinna:4:20 Epitaph: 4:30

1. Aubade
Sir William Davenant (1603 – 1663)

The lark now leaves his wat’ry nest,
And climbing shakes his dewy wings.
He takes this window for the East,
And to implore your light he sings—
Awake, awake! the morn will never rise
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.

The merchant bows unto the seaman’s star,
The ploughman from the sun his season takes;
But still the lover wonders what they are
Who look for day before his mistress wakes.
Awake, awake! break thro’ your veils of lawn!
Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn!

2. Corinna’s going a Maying (adapted)
Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Get up, get up for shame, the Blooming Morne
Upon her wings presents the god unshorne.
See how Aurora throwes her faire
Fresh-quilted colours through the aire:

Get up, sweet-Slug-a-bed, and see
The Dew-bespangling Herbe and Tree.
Each Flower has wept, and bow’d toward the East,
Above an houre since; yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the Birds have Mattens seyd,
And sung their thankful Hymnes: ’tis sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in,
When as a thousand Virgins on this day,
Spring, sooner than the Lark, to fetch in May.

Rise; and be seene
To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and greene;
Take no care
For Jewels for your Gowne, or Haire:
Wash, dresse, be briefe in praying:
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
Come, Corinna, let’s goe a Maying.

There’s not a budding Boy, or Girle, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
And some have wept, and woo’d, and plighted Troth,
And chose their Priest, ere we can cast off sloth:

Many a green-gown has been given;
Many a kisse,
Many a glance has been sent
From out the eye, Loves Firmament:
Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmlesse follie of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Our life is short; can ne’r be found againe:
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown’d with us in endlesse night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying;
Come, Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying.

3. An Epitaph Upon Husband and Wife (adapted)
Richard Crashaw (c. 1613 – 1649)

TO those whom death again did wed,
This grave’s a second marriage-bed.
For though the hand of Fate could force
‘Twixt soul and body a divorce,
It could not sever man and wife,
Because they both lived but one life.
Peace, do not weep;
Peace, the lovers are asleep.
They, sweet turtles, folded lie
In the last knot that love could tie.
Let them sleep, let them sleep on,
Till the stormy night be gone,
And the eternal morrow dawn;
Then the curtains will be drawn,
And they wake into a light
Whose day shall never die in night.