Strata on Video

Log Driver’s Waltz

If you should ask any girl from the parish around
What pleases her most from her head to her toes,
She’ll say – I’m not sure that it’s business of yours,
But I do like to waltz with a log driver.

Refrain: For he goes birling down a-down the white water;
That’s where the log driver learns to step lightly.
It’s birling down, a-down white water;
A log driver’s waltz pleases girls completely.

When the drive’s nearly over, I like to go down
To see all the lads while they work on the river.
I know that come evening they’ll be in the town
And we all want to waltz with a log driver. For he goes….

To please both my parents I’ve had to give way
And dance with the doctors and merchants and lawyers.
Their manners are fine but their feet are of clay
For there’s none with the style of a log driver.
For he goes…

I’ve had my chances with all sorts of men
But none is so fine as my lad on the river.
So when the drive’s over, if he asks me again,
I think I will marry my log driver.
For he goes…

Words and Music: Wade Hemsworth
Arrangement: Ron Smail

Kontakion

Give rest, O Christ, to your servants with your saints
Where sorrow and pain are no more,
neither sighing but life ever lasting.

You only are immortal,
the creator and maker of all;
and we are mortal,
formed of the earth,
and to earth shall we return.

For so did you ordain when you created me, saying;
“You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
All of us go down to the dust;
yet even at the grave we make our song:

Alleluia, Alleluia

Text: Eastern Byzantine Rite
Music: Stephanie Martin

Make Me a Captive

Make me a captive, Lord,
And then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword,
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life’s alarms
When by myself I stand;
Imprison me within thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.

Text: George Matheson,
Music: Gordon Adnams

I’ll Be Seeing You

Cathedral bells were tolling and our hearts sang on;
Was it the spell of Paris or the April dawn?
Who knows if we shall meet again?
But when the morning chimes ring sweet again…
I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces all day through.
In that small café, the park across the way
The children’s carousel, the chestnut tree, the wishing well.
I’ll be seeing you in every lovely summer’s day,
In everything that’s light and gay,
I’ll always think of you that way.
I’ll find you in the morning sun and when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you.

Lyrics – Irving Kahal
Music– Sammy Fain
Arrangement – Darmon Meader for the New York Voices

Coventry Carol

Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child,
By, by, lully, lullay.

O sisters, too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor youngling for whom we do sing,
By, by, lully, lullay?

Herod the king, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his own sight,
All young children, to slay.

That woe is me, poor child, for thee!
And ever mourn and day;
For thy parting, neither say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay!

Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child,
By, by, lully, lullay.

Northwest Passage

(With the audience singing along on the chorus)

Ah, for just one time I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;
Tracing one warm line through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.


Westward from the Davis Strait ’tis there ’twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;
Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones.

Three centuries thereafter, I take passage overland
In the footsteps of brave Kelson, where his “sea of flower” began
Watching cities rise before me, then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer, driving hard across the plain.

And through the night, behind the wheel, the mileage clicking west
I think upon Mackenzie, David Thompson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts and did show a path for me
To race the roaring Fraser to the sea.

How then am I so different from the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life, I threw it all away.
To seek a Northwest Passage at the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again.

Stan Rogers
Arr: Ron Small

Should I Be Me?

Who’s who?
I’m me.
You’re you.

We’re we.
He’s he.
She’s she.

So tell us
what to do –

Should he be she?
Should she be he?
Should I be me
or you?

Poem: JonArno Lawson
Music: Abigail Richardson-Schulte

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