Dies irae
Benjamin Britten, Sir Peter Pears, Galina Vishnevskaya, London Symphony Chorus, The Bach Choir, Melos Ensemble, London Symphony Orchestra
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Lyrics
Move him into the sun
Gently its touch awoke him once
At home, whispering of fields unsown
Always it woke him, even in France
Until this morning and this snow
If anything might rouse him now
The coy- don't sun will know
Think how it wakes the seas
Woke once the clays of a cold star
And limbs so dear as she
A sight full nerves still warm
Too hard to stir
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Oh, what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at dawn?