Scott Solak

Ave Maria

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus,

et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei,

ora pro nobis peccatoribus,

nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.


Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death. Amen.



Jonathan David Little

Crucifixus, Op.13a


Wofully araide,

     My blode, man,

     For thee ran,

It may not be naide;

     My body blo and wanne,

Wofully araide.



Of sharpe thorne I haue worne a crowne on my hede,

So paynyd, so straynyd, so rufull, so red;

Thus bobbid, thus robbid, thus for thy loue ded,

Onfaynyd, not deynyd my blod for to shed;

     My fete and handes sore

     The sturdy nailis bore;

     What might I suffir more

          Than I haue don, O man, for thee?

          Cum when thou list, wellcum to me,

               Wofully araide.


FINAL (expanded) REFRAIN

Wofully araide,

     My blode, man,

     For thee ran,

It may not be naide;

     My body blo and wanne,

Wofully araide.


Attributed to John Skelton (ca.1463-1529)



Helen MacKinnon

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Gloria in excelsis Deo,

et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis

Laudamus te,

benedicimus te,

adoramus te,

glorificamus te,

gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam,


Domine Deus, Rex caelestis,

Deus Pater omnipotens.


Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe,

Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris,

qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis;


qui tollis peccata mundi,

suscipe deprecationem nostram.

Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.


Quoniam tu solus Sanctus,

tu solus Dominus,

tu solus Altissimus, Jesu Christe,

cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris. Amen.


Glory to God in the highest

And on earth, peace to men of goodwill

We praise you

We bless you

We adore you

We glorify you

We give you thanks for your great glory


Lord God, heavenly King

Almighty God and father


Lord Jesus Christ, only begotten Son

Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father

Who take away the sins of the World, have mercy on us


Who take away the sins of the world,

Hear our prayer,

Who sit at the right hand of the Father,

Have mercy on us


For you alone are the holy one

You alone are the Lord

You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ

With the Holy Spirit in the glory of God the Father. Amen.



L Peter Deutsch

A Fisherman of

the Inland Sea 

Of all the stories my mother brought with her from her far-away homeland, my favorite was a very old story called “The Fisherman of the Inland Sea.” It was a sad story, but I would wait through all the other stories for her to catch my eye, look away, smile a little and sigh, and begin....


There was a poor fisherman, Urashima, who went out daily in his boat alone on the quiet sea that lay between his home island and the mainland. He was a beautiful young man with long, black hair, and the daughter of the king of the sea saw him as he leaned over the side of the boat and she gazed up to see the floating shadow cross the wide circle of the sky.


Rising from the waves, she begged him to come with her to her palace under the sea. At first he refused, saying, “My children wait for me at home.” But how could he resist the sea king’s daughter? “One night,” he said. She drew him down with her under the water, and they spent a night of love in her green palace, served by strange undersea beings. Urashima came to love her dearly, and maybe he stayed more than one night only. But at last he said, “My dear, I must go. My children wait for me at home.”


“If you go, you go forever,” she said.


“I will come back,” he promised.


She shook her head. She grieved, but did not plead with him. “Take this with you,” she said, giving him a little box, wonderfully carved, and sealed shut. “Do not open it, Urashima.”


So he went up onto the land, and ran up the shore to his village, to his house: but the garden was a wilderness, the windows were blank, the roof had fallen in. People came and went among the familiar houses of the village, but he did not know a single face. “Where are my children?” he cried. An old woman stopped and spoke to him: “What is your trouble, young stranger?”


“I am Urashima, of this village, but I see no one here I know!”


“Urashima!” the woman said -- and my mother would look far away, and her voice as she said the name made me shiver, tears starting to my eyes -- “Urashima! My grandfather told me a fisherman named Urashima was lost at sea, in the time of his grandfather’s grandfather. There has been no one of that family alive for a hundred years.”


So Urashima went back down to the shore; and there he opened the box, the gift of the sea king’s daughter. A little white smoke came out of it and drifted away on the sea wind. In that moment Urashima’s black hair turned white, and he grew old, old, old; and he lay down on the sand and died.


Did I know then what that story meant to her? That it was her story? That if she were to return to her village, all the people she had known would be dead or gone, and the village itself an alien place?


Texts by Ursula K. Le Guin

Copyright © 2009 L Peter Deutsch. All rights reserved. Words Copyright © 1994 Ursula K. Le Guin, used by permission.




Juli Nunlist



Spell of Sleep


Let him be safe in sleep

As leaves folded together

As young birds under wings

As the unopened flower.


Let him be hidden in sleep

As islands under rain,

As mountains within their clouds,

As hills in the mantle of dusk.


Let him be free in sleep

As the flowing tides of the sea,

As the travelling wind on the moor,

As the journeying stars in space.


Let him be upheld in sleep

As a cloud at rest on the air,

As sea-wrack under the waves

When the flowing tide covers all

And the shells’ delicate lives

Open on the sea-floor.


Let him be healed in sleep

In the quiet waters of night

In the mirroring pool of dreams

Where memory returns in peace,

Where the troubled spirit grows wise

And the heart is comforted.


Texts Kathleen Jessie Raine


Spell of Creation


Within the flower there lies a seed,

Within the seed there springs a tree,

Within the tree there spreads a wood.


In the wood there burns a fire,

And in the fire there melts a stone,

Within the stone a ring of iron.


Within the ring there lies an O,

Within the O there looks an eye,

In the eye there swims a sea,


And in the sea reflected sky,

And in the sky there shines the sun,

Within the sun a bird of gold.


Within the bird there beats a heart,

And from the heart there flows a song,

And in the song there sings a word.


In the word there speaks a world,

A world of joy, a world of grief,

From joy and grief there springs my love.

Oh love, my love, there springs a world,

And on the world there shines a sun,

And in the sun there burns a fire,


Within the fire consumes my heart,

And in my heart there beats a bird,

And in the bird there wakes an eye,


Within the eye, earth, sea and sky,

Earth, sky and sea within an O

Lie like the seed within the flower.


Texts Kathleen Jessie Raine



Daniel Morse


Des Unbewegten Odem. Ein Tiergesicht

Erstarrt vor Bläue, ihrer Heiligkeit.

Gewaltig ist das Schweigen im Stein;


Die Maske eines nächtlichen Vogels. Sanfter Dreiklang

Verklingt in einem. Elai! dein Antlitz

Beugt sich sprachlos über bläuliche Wasser.


O! ihr stillen Spiegel der Wahrheit.

An des Einsamen elfenbeinerner Schläfe

Erscheint der Abglanz gefallener Engel.


The life-breath of the unmoved. The face of an animal

Is paralyzed with blueness, of her holiness.

Mighty is the silence in stone;


The mask of a nocturnal bird. Gentle triad

Dies away into one. Elai! your countenance

Bends speechless over bluish waters.


O! you silent mirrors of truth.

On the ivory temple of the lonely

Appears the reflection of fallen angels.


Text by Georg Trakl



Peter Greve

Give us Peace

Latin: Dona nobis pacem; pax vobiscum

Russian: Prinesi nam mir; mir fsyem

Hebrew: Tenlanu shalom; shalom alekhem

Arab: Atina salaam; salaam aleikum



Whitman Brown

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD my whole life long.



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