Morten Lauridsen - Prayer
In the alleyway, sweep
Of the wind sifting the leaves
Jeweller of the spiderweb, connoisseur
Of autumn's opulence, blade of lightning
Harvesting the sky
Keeper of the small gate, choreographer
Of entrances and exits, midnight
Whisper traveling the wires
Seducer, healer, deity or thief
I will see you soon enough—
In the shadow of the rainfall
In the brief violet darkening a sunset—
But until then I pray watch over him
As a mountain guards its covert ore
And the harsh falcon its flightless young
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Morten Lauridsen - Ubi caritas et amor
Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor Exultemus, et in ipso iucundemur Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero
Morten Lauridsen - Veni, Sancte Spiritus
Veni Sancte Spiritus Et emitte coelitus Lucis tuae radium Veni, pater pauperum Veni, dator munerum Veni, lumen cordium Consolatur optime Dulcis hospes animae
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Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong Think rather,– call to thought, if now you grieve a little The days
Morten Lauridsen - To One That Desired to Know My Mistris
Seek not to know my love, for she Hath vow'd her constant faith to me; Her mild aspects are mine, and thou Shalt only find a stormy brow: For if her beauty stir desire In
Morten Lauridsen - Slow, Slow, Fresh Fount
Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; Yet slower, yet, O faintly, gentle springs! List to the heavy part the music bears Woe weeps out her division, when she sings
Morten Lauridsen - To My Mistris, I Burning in Love
I burn; and cruel you, in vain Hope to quench me with disdain; If from your eyes those sparkles came That have kindled all this flame What boots it me, though now you shroud
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Give me more love or more disdain; The torrid, or the frozen zone Bring equal ease unto my pain; The temperate affords me none; Either extreme, of love, or hate Is sweeter
Morten Lauridsen - Ov'è, lass', il bel viso?
Ov'è, lass', il bel viso? ecco, ei s'asconde Oimè, dov'il mio sol? Lasso, che velo S'è post'inanti Te rend'oscur'il cielo? Oimè ch'io il chiamo et
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Where have the actors gone The play has ended The curtain dropped There′s no applauding now No cheering crowd No autographs No curtain calls, an empty stage The
Morten Lauridsen - Psalm 29
Give unto the lord, o ye mighty, give unto the lord glory and strength Give unto the lord the glory due unto his name; worship the lord in the beauty of holiness The voice of the lord is