As one begins, in dread for mercy,

Which keys so white, now marry the black,

But the phantom cries of B and D,

And then the first of those, Flat,

But the second, now E?

 

Does not such tension live in us all?

And does man in ancient travail,

Screaming for what sight could fall

On the eyes of our Kyrie, so often fail?

 

Yea, thus Eleison blithely follows,

Crushing hearts, with the sin we love!

So beckons the Divine, to earth so hollow,

With tremors of blood, in a fleshly alcove!

 

Yet soon, in shadows forgotten,

Gloria exclaims, and puts this to rest!

Leaves us in sighs, with virtue begotten,

Where joys so form, and sorrows shan’t test!

 

O lovely, bright minutes, extending forever,

‘Till Gratias Agimus ascends above stars,

What Tibi, and thenceforth clever

This artful Fugue, to us imparts!

 

O Lord, my God, what did we do?

That the iniquitous like us,

Could be blessed this true?

Such notes, master Bach entrusts

To our ears so itching, but not for words askew?

 

Rather, suffer them to boldly itch!

But in pain for Crucifixus,

Until in sudden, crashing blitz,

Et Resurrexit lifts us!

 

Yet, nay, not enough, are we exalted!

Until so barges the blaring Sanctus, 

Voices soaring, for tears not halted,

And harmonies joining the angels unto us!

 

Now Agnus Dei so quiets down:

 

What spirits rose high our hearts emboldened,

Now whisper song tender, of the Innocent Lamb broken,

Mercy again asked, with souls now golden

And soft do we wait, for an end unspoken:

 

Nay, sung! And sung bright,

The Dona Nobis Pacem!

That glory may fight,

In Fugal reprise, and celestial anthem!

Gratias Agimus returns by notes,

But Tibi gives way, for Dona uncloaked!

Hearts and minds eschew worldly rote,

As senses and souls, in heaven’s seas now float!

 

But most will I sing to Thee today,

Who took frail man, so made from clay,

And moved Johann fast, to seize the day,

When frail old hands, but blinder he went,

Conquered this score for what love he sent

To those of us now, with spirits unkempt,

Who seek pilgrim crowns in a Muse’s tent!

 

We praise what Spirit, made Sebastian bright,

And gave us such Music

That for Heaven,

We may fight.

 

_________________

 

R.V. Smith: “Ode to the Mass in B Minor of Johann Sebastian Bach” 12-23-24

 

© 2024 by Ryan Vincent Smith