by James Cawthorne (1719 - 1761)
Abelard
Language: English
Ah! why this boding start, this sudden pain, That wings my pulse and shoots from vein to vein, What mean, regardless of yon midnight bell, These earth-born visions sad'ning o'er my cell? What strange disorder prompts these thoughts to glow, These sighs to murmur, and these tears to flow? Sleep, conscience, sleep, each awful thought be drown'd, And sevenfold darkness veil the scene around. What means this pause, this agonizing start, This glimpse of heav'n just rushing thro' my heart? Methinks, I see a radiant cross display'd, A wounded Saviour bleeds along the shade; Around th' expiring God bright angels fly, Swell the loud hymn and open all the sky. O save me, save me, e'er the thunder roll And endless terrors swallow up my soul. Fly, fly, for justice bares the arm of God, And the grasp'd vengeance only waits his nod!
Authorship:
- by James Cawthorne (1719 - 1761) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by John Wall Callcott (1766 - 1821), "Abelard", subtitle: "Sacred glee for four voices" [ vocal quartet ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Johann Winkler
This text was added to the website: 2020-04-07
Line count: 18
Word count: 143