Gillamoor looked great that day, the done-heather brown over the hillside, bare trees exposing the moor to view Surprise View still surprises by its continuing ability to do so The low November sun sought out the shades as numerous as the lights of brown in your hair That day I was not hurtling down the motorway to meet you I was cutting over the moors to the North East's coast It wasn't you I was meeting that day but you'd have enjoyed the drive and the subsequent lunch on the pier by the sea
1974 Strath (UK) 1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press) 1988 Iota 1990 Verve (USA) 2007 MIND AND BODY (York, Fighting Cock Press)
(1st public performance, Lincoln Centre, New York 1962, Conductor: Hindemith. 1st public performance in U.K., York Minster, 13th May 1972, Conductor: Frances Jackson)
I
Crescendo
It is quiet today in New York Flowers bloom in New York today The air is still waiting The sounds of war are distant We who hear you now know here in York in '72 for the first living time in public the crescendo builds Did they in New York in '62 know too ? And yourself as Jackson now the Minster reverberating with the sounds of your becoming epitaph The seal is set it cannot now be broken The movement will come to an end It lies still
II
(Allegro)
It goes on Your breakfast is served Life retains its hum-drum reality But there's a stirring in the air Ah Hindemith they knew you well those who perceive the chords in the air not yet cut not yet surmised No awareness of scissors the sharpness is an octave higher There's life in the magic still Who knows where it leads ? Beneath the city the subway carries its herd of commuters The traffic sits waiting for the red to change to green as amber flashes There can be nothing pedestrian here The movement is leading home
III
Canzonetta in triads and two ritornelli
The music is written There are no words to be said And yet can even the tongue cease its quest ? The quiet rumblings are soon enough heard The words cannot be stopped The music is not all that is written
IV
Phantasy on "Veni Creator Spiritus"
The time has come Hindemith You knew you old devil you You knew the spirit was not created only for you But you took it Yet it took you too and you left leaving us this this your fantasy You are gone from New York You are gone too from York Play it out orchestra and organ your musical orgasm It is coming for you It is coming for us None of us can escape You have left us this It was all you had And we needed it This you couldn't take We thank you for leaving us our own fantasy All creation ends in creation Only the dust is lost O Master Musician go now depart in peace We send you flowers but no tears We will bury you as befits The flowers will bloom tomorrow on your grave You are done with us But we are not done with you
