This poem is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read, and so it was natural that I would use it for a composition. This is one of my first pieces for solo voice.
The words to the poem were written by Catherine Maria Fanshawe in 1814 and is her most well known work. I have purposefully left out the title as it gives away the riddle, but the link gives it away if you absolutely must know. While reading it, I instantly felt like it needed to be set to music. The words were so evocative and beautiful, and the mystery of them being a riddle just made them all the more attractive as lyrics.
The words to the poem were written by Catherine Maria Fanshawe in 1814 and is her most well known work. I have purposefully left out the title as it gives away the riddle, but the link gives it away if you absolutely must know. While reading it, I instantly felt like it needed to be set to music. The words were so evocative and beautiful, and the mystery of them being a riddle just made them all the more attractive as lyrics.
‘Twas whispered in heaven, ’twas muttered in hell, And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell; On the confines of earth ’twas permitted to rest, And the depths of the ocean its presence confessed. ‘Twill be found in the sphere when ’tis riven asunder; ‘Tis seen in the lightning, and heard in the thunder. ‘Twas allotted to man from his earliest breath; It assists at his birth, and attends him in death; It presides o’er his happiness, honour, and health; Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth. In the heap of the miser ’tis hoarded with care, But is sure to be lost in his prodigal heir. It begins every hope, every wish it must bound, It prays with the hermit, with monarchs is crowned. Without it the soldier and seaman may roam, But woe to the wretch who expels it from home. In the whispers of conscience ’tis sure to be found; Nor e’en in the whirlwind of passion is drowned. ‘Twill soften the heart, and though deaf to the ear, ‘Twill make it acutely and constantly hear. But, in short, let it rest like a beautiful flower; Oh, breathe on it softly, it dies in an hour. | This is a video of me singing "What is it?" at my composition recital. Naoko Terakado plays the piano beautifully (especially given the difficulty of the part). Unfortunately, the video camera was not adjusted until after this piece (and I'm on stage so I didn't notice), so you really don't get to see my face. |