HOME for the HOLIDAYS SOUTH FLORIDA’S GRAMMY® NOMINATED VOCAL ENSEMBLE
HOME for the HOLIDAYS program Adeste Fideles
John Francis Wade arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley
What Child Is This?
Anonymous, English
Sweet Little Jesus Boy
Anonymous, Spiritual
O Little Town of Bethlehem
Anonymous, English
(1711-1786)
arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley (1803-1856)
O Holy Night
Adolph Adam
There is No Rose of Such Virtue
Anonymous
Es ist ein Ros
Michaël Praetorious
(1571-1621)
Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella
Nicolas Saboly arr. Heather Graves
(1614-1675)
Jesus Christ the Apple Tree
Elizabeth Poston
(1905-1987)
Silent Night
Franz Xaver Gruber
(1787-1863)
arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley Musical interludes by Michael Hawes
Made possible by the Meredyth Anne Dasburg Foundation
Medieval
artist roster SOPRANO Sara Guttenberg (IL) Chelsea Helm (NY) Jane Long (WA) ALTO Andrew Rader (IN) Alexandra Colaizzi (MA) William Duffy (QC) TENOR Steve Soph (PA) Patrick Muehleise (FL) Blake Beckemeyer (IN) BASS Matthew Nielsen (NY) John Buffett (CA) Michael Hawes (IL) INSTRUMENTALIST Stephen Karr, organist (CA) PRODUCTION CREDITS Audio Engineer: Jamie Tagg (IN) Video Production: Enrico Lagasca (NY) Head of Production: Alexis Aimé (FL) Producer/Director: Southern Land Films (FL) Executive Producer: James K. Bass (CA) A Seraphic Fire Media Production (SFM ™)
Special thanks to the Church of St. Andrew and St. Paul in Montreal, Canada, Abington Presbyterian Church, PA and the Deering Estate, Miami for providing safe on-site filming locations.
Home for the Holidays | 3
Text & Translations Adeste Fideles, John Francis Wade (1711-1786) arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes, Venite, venite in Bethlehem. Natum videte Regem angelorum. Venite adoremus Dominum.
Oh, come, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant! Oh, come ye, oh, come ye to Bethlehem; Come and behold him, Born the King of Angels: O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord
En grege relicto, Humiles ad cunas, vocati pastores approperant. Et nos ovanti gradu festinemus; Venite adoremus Dominum.
See how the shepherds, summoned to His cradle, leaving their flocks, draw nigh to gaze. We too will thither bend our hearts’ oblations O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord Sing choirs of angels, Sing in exultation, Sing, all ye citizens of heav’n above; Glory to God, Glory in the highest; O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
What Child Is This? Anonymous, arr. James W. Keefe What child is this who laid to rest On Mary’s lap is sleeping? Wom angels greet with anthems sweet, While shepherds watch are keeping? This, this is Christ the King, Whom shepherds guard and angels sing; Haste, haste to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary. Why lies he in such mean estate, Where ox and ass are feeding? Good Christians, fear for sinners here, The silent Word is pleading. Nails, spear shall pierce him through, The cross he bourne for me, for you. Hail, hail the Word made flesh, the Babe, the Son of Mary. So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh, Come peasant, King to own him. The King of kings, salvation brings; Let loving hearts enthrone him. Raise, raise a song on high; The Virgin sings her lullaby. Joy, joy for Christ is born, the Babe, the Son of Mary. Home for the Holidays | 4
Text & Translations Sweet Little Jesus Boy, Anonymous, Spiritual Sweet little Jesus boy They made you be born in a manger Sweet little holy child We didn’t know who you were Didn’t know you’d come to save us Lord To take our sins away Our eyes were blind, we could not see We didn’t know who you were
You have told us how We are trying Master you have shown us how Even when you were dying Just seems like we can’t do right Look how we treated you But please Sir forgive us Lord We didn’t know it was you
Long time ago You were born Born in a manger Lord Sweet little Jesus boy The world treats you mean Lord Treats me mean too But that’s how things are down here We don’t know who you are
Sweet little Jesus boy Born a long time ago Sweet little holy child We didn’t know who you were
O Little Town of Bethlehem, Anonymous, English arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light; The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above, While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love. Oh morning stars, together proclaim thy holy birth! And praises sing to God the king, and peace to men on earth. Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light; The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
Home for the Holidays | 5
Text & Translations O Holy Night, Adolph Adam (1803-1856) Oh, holy night! The stars are brightly shining It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining 'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices Oh, night divine, Oh, night when Christ was born Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother; And in His name, all oppression shall cease Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, Let all within us praise His holy name Christ is the Lord! Oh, praise His Name forever His power and glory evermore proclaim Oh, night divine, oh, night when Christ was born Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices Oh, night divine, Oh, night when Christ was born Oh, night divine, oh, night when Christ was born Christ is the Lord! Oh, praise His Name forever His power and glory evermore proclaim Oh, night divine, oh, night when Christ was born
Home for the Holidays | 6
Text &Translations There is No Rose of Such Virtue, Anonymous, Medieval There is no rose of such virtue As is the rose that bare Jesu, Alleluia. For in this rose containéd was Heaven and Earth in little space, Res miranda. (a wondrous thing) By that rose we may well see That He is God in persons three, Pari forma. (equal form) The angels sungen the shepherds to: “Gloria in excelsis Deo.” Gaudeamus. (rejoice)
Es ist ein Ros, Michaël Praetorious (1571-1621) Es ist ein Rose entsprungen aus einer Wurzel zart, Wie uns die Alten sungen, von Jesse kam die Art und hat ein Blümlein bracht mitten im kalten Winter wohl zu der halben Nacht.
A rose has sprung up from a tender branch, as the ancient ones sang, its origin was from Jesse; and it brought forth a little blossom in the middle of the cold winter, even in the middle of the night.
Das Röslein, das ich meine, davon Isaias sagt, Hat uns gebracht alleine Marie, die reine Magd. Aus Gottes ew’gem Rat hat sie ein Kind geboren und blieb ein reine Magd.
The rosebud that I’m thinking of, which Isaiah spoke of, is Mary, the innocent, which brought us that blossom. Out of God’s eternal counsel She bore us a child and remained a pure virgin.
Das Blümelein so kleine, das duftet uns so süss, mit seinmen hallen Scheine vertribts die Finsternis: Wahr’ Mensch und wahrer Gott, hilft uns aus allem Leide, rettet von Sünd und Tod.
The little blossom, so small That smells so sweet to us With its bright gleam It dispels the darkness. True man and true God, It helps us from all trouble, Saves us from sin and death. Home for the Holidays | 7
Text &Translations Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella, Nicolas Saboly (1614-1675) arr. Heather Graves Bring a torch, Jeanette, Isabella Bring a torch, it is dark in the stall; It is Jesus, good folks of the village, Run quickly I hear Mary’s soft call. Ah, ah, radiant is the mother Ah, ah, angelic is the child Hush, hush, see how the child is sleeping, Hush, hush, see how he smiles in dreams. Stars the glow, jump out of bed! Silence now as you gather around him, Wake not the babe who shines so bright. Bring a torch, Jeanette, Isabella, Bring your family, your friends, and all; It is Jesus, good folks of the city, Angels are singing soft and sweet. Ah, ah, radiant is the mother Ah, ah, angelic is the child Hush, hush, see how the child is sleeping, Hush, hush, see how he smiles in dreams. Ah, ah, gaze down at peaceful slumber, Ah, ah, gaze down at his small face. Hush, hush, listen to angels singing, Hush, hush, see how he smiles in dreams.
Home for the Holidays | 8
Text & Translations Jesus Christ the Apple Tree, Elizabeth Poston (1905-1987) The tree of life my soul hath seen, Laden with fruit, and always green, The trees of nature fruitless be, Compar’d with Christ the appletree. His beauty doth all things excel, By faith I know, but ne’er can tell, The glory which I now can see, In Jesus Christ the appletree. For happiness I long have sought, And pleasure I have dearly bought; I missed of all but now I see ‘Tis found in Christ the appletree. I’m wearied with my former toil, Here I will sit and rest awhile; Under the shadow I will be Of Jesus Christ the appletree. This fruit doth make my soul to thrive, It keeps my dying faith alive; Which makes my soul in haste to be With Jesus Christ the appletree. Silent Night, Franz Xaver Gruber (1787-1863) arr. Patrick Dupré Quigley Silent night! holy night! All is calm, all is bright Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child! Holy infant, so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace! Sleep in heavenly peace!
Silent night! holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight! Glories stream from heaven afar, Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia! Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born!
Silent night! holy night! Son of God, love’s pure light Radiant beams from thy holy face With dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at thy birth! Jesus Lord, at thy birth!
Home for the Holidays | 9
SOUTH FLORIDA’S GRAMMY® NOMINATED VOCAL ENSEMBLE
SeraphicFire.org
Home for the Holidays | 10