61 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
61 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
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<script src="../../js/basepath.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>THE LOST CHORD</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” Revelation 7:17</h3></p>
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<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
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<hr>
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<div align="center">
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<center>
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<table>
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<tr>
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<td><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_p_r_procter_aa.jpg" alt="Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864)" width="132.666666666667" height="199.333333333333"></td>
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<td><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_p_r_procter_aa.html" target="_blank">Adelaide Anne Procter</a> (1825-1864).
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<p><em>Music:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_s_u_sullivan_as.html" target="_blank">Arthur Seymour Sullivan</a>, 1876 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_l_o_lostchor.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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<p class=just>Sullivan had been trying to set Procter’s words to music for several years, but did not succeed until faced with the death of his brother Fred, to whom he was very close. His brother died a slow death, lingering three weeks, and the grief brought forth this wonderful music from Arthur’s pen. Though unsuited to congregational singing, it was tremendously popular around the beginning of the 20th Century.</td>
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<td><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_s_u_sullivan_as.jpg" alt="Arthur Seymour Sullivan (1842-1900)" width="131.333333333333" height="198.666666666667"></td>
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</tr>
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</table>
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</center>
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</div>
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<hr>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>Seated one day at the organ,<br>
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I was weary and ill at ease,<br>
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And my fingers wandered idly<br>
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Over the noisy keys;<br>
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I know not what I was playing,<br>
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Or what I was dreaming then,<br>
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But I struck one chord of music,<br>
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Like the sound of a great Amen,<br>
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Like the sound of a great Amen.</p>
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<p>It flooded the crimson twilight,<br>
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Like the close of an angel’s psalm,<br>
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And it lay on my fevered spirit,<br>
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With a touch of infinite calm,<br>
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It quieted pain and sorrow,<br>
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Like love overcoming strife,<br>
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It seemed the harmonious echo<br>
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From our discordant life,<br>
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It linked all the perplexed meanings<br>
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Into one perfect peace,<br>
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And trembled away into silence,<br>
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As if it were loth to cease;<br>
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I have sought but I seek it vainly,<br>
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That one lost chord divine,<br>
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Which came from the soul of the organ,<br>
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And entered into mine.</p>
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<p>It may be that death’s bright angel<br>
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Will speak in that chord again;<br>
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It may be that only in Heav’n<br>
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I shall hear that great Amen.<br>
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It may be that death’s bright angel<br>
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Will speak in that chord again;<br>
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It may be that only in Heav’n<br>
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I shall hear that great Amen.</p>
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</div>
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<hr>
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