No End to the Journey by Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi (1207 – 1273)

English version by Robert Bly, Original Language Persian/Farsi & Turkish

No end, no end to the journey
no end, no end never
how can the heart in love
ever stop opening
if you love me,
you won’t just die once
in every moment
you will ...be reborn
[...]
your way begins
on the other side
become the sky
take an axe to the prison wall,
escape
walk out like someone
suddenly born into color
do it now

The Washington Chorus. The primary thematic material is attributed to music from the Civil Rights era, which was the vehicle that helped shepherd many protests toward the cause of equal rights for Black Americans. The first movement is a fantasia on Keep Your Eyes on the Prize, which is derived from the gospel hymn Keep Your Hand on the Plow. The mixed meters and extended phrases give the listener the sense of being on a ride in which they must grab on to something to stay in place. The second movement, Take My Hand Precious Lord, is a tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. His favorite hymn, it was sung at King’s funeral by gospel singer Mahlia Jackson. The last movement, Ego Trippin’, speaks to the power of believing in one’s self. Songs from the Civil Rights era that are included in this movement are, Oh Freedom, We Shall Overcome (with slightly altered, updated text), We Shall Not Be Moved, and culminates in James Weldon Johnson’s Lift Every Voice and Sing just after the choir shouts, “No Justice, No Peace!”

—Damien Geter
2021

Rev. Thomas A. Dorsey & James Weldon Johnson

1. Keep Your Eyes on the Prize

   Paul and Silas bound in jail,
   Had no money for to go their bail.
   Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.

   Paul and Silas began to shout.
   Doors popped open and they walked out.
   Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.

   Freedom’s name is mighty sweet,
   And soon we’re gonna meet.
   Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.

   Got my hand on the gospel plow,
   Won’t take nothing for my journey now.
   Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.

2. Precious Lord, Take my Hand

   ...and lead me home.
   When the darkness appears,
   And the night draws near,
   And the day is past and gone.
   At the river I stand.
   Guide my feet, hold my hand.
   Take my hand precious Lord and lead me home.

   Hear my cry, hear my call.
   Hold my hand lest I fall.
   Take my hand, precious Lord and lead me home.

   Precious Lord, take my hand.
   Lead me on, let me stand.
   I am tired. I am weak. I am worn.
   Through the storm, through the night,
   Lead me on to the light.
   Take my hand precious Lord and lead me home.

3. Ego Trippin’

   Oh, freedom!
   Oh, freedom over me.

   Free!

   We shall overcome.
   Right now.

   We shall not be moved.
   Like a tree that’s standing by the water;
   We shall not be moved.

   On the road to justice,
   We shall not be moved.
   Just like a tree that standing by the water;
   We shall not be moved.

   No justice; no peace!

   Lift every voice and since,
   ‘Til earth and Heaven ring.
   Ring with the harmonies of liberty.
   Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies.
   Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.

   Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us.
   Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us.

   Facing the rising sun,
   Of our new day begun.
   Let us march on ‘til victory is won.

1. Agnus Dei

   Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
   dona nobis pacem.

   Lamb of God, that taketh away the sing
   of the world, grant us peace.

2. Beat! beat! drums!

   Beat! beat! drums! – Blow! bugles! blow!
   Through the windows – through the doors burst like a ruthless force,
   Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation;
   Into the school where the scholar is studying;
   Leave not the bridegroom quiet – no happiness must he have now with his bridge;
   Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field, or gathering in his grain;
   So fierce you whirr and pound you drums – so shrill you bugles blow.

   Beat! Beat! Drums! – Blow! bugles! blow!
   Over the traffic of cities – over the rumble of wheels in the streets:
   Are beds prepared for the sleepers at night in the houses?
   No sleepers must sleep in those beds;
   No bargainers’ bargains by day – no brokers or speculators – would they continue?
   Would the talkers be talking? Would the singer attempt to sing?
   Then rattle quicker, heavier drums – you bugles wilder blow.

   Beat! Beat! Drums! – Blow! bugles! blow!
   Make no parley – stop for no expostulation,
   Mind not the timid – mind not the weeper or prayer;
   Mind not the old man beseeching the young man;
   Let not the child’s voice be heard, nor the mother’s entreaties;
   Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the hearses,
   So strong you thump O terrible drums – so loud you bugles blow.

   —Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

3. Reconciliation

   Word over all, beautiful as the sky,
   Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be utterly
   lost, That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly, softly,
   wash again and ever again this soiled world;
   For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead,
   I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin I draw near,
   Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.

   —Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

4. Dirge for Two Veterans

   The last sunbeam
   Lightly falls from the finished Sabbath,
   On the pavement here, and there beyond it is looking
   Down a new-made double grave.

   Lo, the moon ascending,
   Up from the east the silvery round moon,
   Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon,
   Immense and silent moon.

   I see a sad procession,
   And I hear the sound of coming full-keyed bugles,
   All the channels of the city streets they’re flooding
   As with the voices and with tears.

   I hear the great drums pounding,
   And the small drums steady whirring,
   And every blow of the great convulsive drums
   Strikes me through and through.
   For the son is brought with the father,
   In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
   Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
   And the double grave awaits them.

   Now nearer blow the bugles,
   And the drums strike more convulsive,
   And the daylight o’er the pavement quite had faded,
   And the strong dead-march enwraps me.

   In the eastern sky up-buoying,
   The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumined,
   ‘Tis some mother’s large transparent face,
   In heaven brighter growing.

   O strong dead-march you please me!
   O moon immense with your silvery face you soothe me!
   O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial!
   What I have I also give you.

   The moon gives you light,
   And the bugles and the drums give you music,
   And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
   My heart gives you love.

   —Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

5. Reconciliation

   The Angel of Death has been abroad throughout the land; you may also hear
   the beating of his wings. There is no one as of old . . . to sprinkle with blood the
   intel and the two side-posts of our doors, that he may spare and pass on.

   —John Bright (1811-1889)

   Dona nobis pacem. (Translation: Grant us peace.)

   We looked for peace, but no good came; and for a time of health, and behold trouble! The snorting of his horses was heard from Dan; the whole land trembled at the sound of the neighing of his strong ones; for they are come, and have devoured the land . . . and those that dwell therein . . .

   The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved . . . Is there no balm in Gilead?; is there no physician there? Why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?

   —John Bright (1811-1889)

6. O man greatly beloved

   O man greatly beloved, fear not, peace be unto thee, be strong, yea, be strong.

   —Daniel 10:19

   The glory of this latter house shall be greater than the former . . . and in this place will I give peace.

   —Haggai 2:9

   Nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
   And none shall make them afraid, neither shall the sword go through their land.
   Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
   Truth shall spring out of the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
   Open to me the gates of righteousness, I will go into them.
   Let all the nations be gathered together, and let the people be assembled;
   and let them hear and say, it is the truth.
   And it shall come, that I will gather all nations and tongues.
   And they shall come and see my glory. And I will set a sign among them,
   and they shall declare my glory among the nations.
   For as the new heavens and the new earth, which I will make, shall remain before me,
   so shall your seed and your name remain for ever.

   — Adapted from Micah 4:3,Leviticus 26:6,
   Psalms 85:10 and 118:19, Isaiah 43:9
   and 56:18-22, Luke 2:14