Windham (Daniel Read): Difference between revisions
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*{{PostedDate|2015-03-18}} {{CPDLno|34816}} [{{filepath:WindhamRead1785a.pdf}} {{pdf}}] | *{{PostedDate|2015-03-18}} {{CPDLno|34816}} [{{filepath:WindhamRead1785a.pdf}} {{pdf}}] | ||
{{Editor|Barry Johnston|2015-03-18}}{{ScoreInfo| | {{Editor|Barry Johnston|2015-03-18}}{{ScoreInfo|7 x 10 in (landscape)|1|46}}{{Copy|Public Domain}} | ||
:'''Edition notes:''' Note shapes added (4-shape). Published in 1785 with the first stanza of [[Isaac Watts]]' hymn; the other three stanzas added below. | :'''Edition notes:''' Note shapes added (4-shape). Published in 1785 with the first stanza of [[Isaac Watts]]' hymn; the other three stanzas added below. | ||
Revision as of 01:53, 18 March 2015
Music files
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- (Posted 2015-03-18) CPDL #34816:
- Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2015-03-18). Score information: 7 x 10 in (landscape), 1 page, 46 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: Note shapes added (4-shape). Published in 1785 with the first stanza of Isaac Watts' hymn; the other three stanzas added below.
- CPDL #17392:
- Editor: Tim Henderson (submitted 2008-06-29). Score information: A4, 1 page, 193 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: Version taken from Missouri Harmony
General Information
Title: Windham
First Line: Broad is the road that leads to death
Composer: Daniel Read
Lyricist: Isaac Watts
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred, Hymn Meter: 88. 88 (L.M.)
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
Published: 1785
Description: Published in The American Singing-Book, 1785, p. 55. Words by Isaac Watts, 1709, his Hymn 158 of Book 2.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Broad is the road that leads to death,
And thousands walk together there;
But wisdom shows a narrower path,
With here and there a traveller.
"Deny thyself, and take thy cross,"
Is the Redeemer's great command;
Nature must count her gold but dross,
If she would gain this heav'nly land.
The fearful soul that tires and faints,
And walks the ways of God no more,
Is but esteemed almost a saint,
And makes his own destruction sure.
Lord, let not all my hopes be vain
Create my heart entirely new;
Which hypocrites could ne'er attain,
Which false apostates never knew.