Another version of Aaron Copland's The Promise of Living today, done by the Baylor University Choir. The words to this hymn are at the bottom of today's post.
Interesting thoughts in this poem by Carl Sandburg...
Languages
THERE are no handles upon a language
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
It is a river, this language,
Once in a thousand years
Breaking a new course
Changing its way to the ocean.
It is mountain effluvia
Moving to valleys
And from nation to nation
Crossing borders and mixing.
Languages die like rivers.
Words wrapped round your tongue today
And broken to shape of thought
Between your teeth and lips speaking
Now and today
Shall be faded hieroglyphics
Ten thousand years from now.
Sing--and singing--remember
Your song dies and changes
And is not here to-morrow
Any more than the wind
Blowing ten thousand years ago.
The Promise of Living
The promise of living
with hope and thanksgiving
Is born of our loving our friends and our labor.
The promise of growing
With faith and with knowing
Is born of our sharing our love with our neighbor.
The promise of living
The promise of growing
Is born of our singing in joy and thanksgiving.
For many a year we've known these fields
And know all the work that makes them yield.
Are you ready to lend a hand? Ready to lend a hand?
By working together we'll bring in the harvest--
The blessings of harvest.
We plant each row with seeds of grain
And Providence sends us the sun and the rain.
By lending a hand, by lending an arm
Bring out from the farm,
Bring out the blessings of harvest.
Give thanks there was sunshine,
Give thanks there was rain,
Give thanks we have hands to deliver the grain!
Oh let us be joyful
Oh let us be grateful!
To the Lord for His blessing!
The promise of ending
In right understanding
is peace in our own hearts
and peace with our neighbor!
The promise of living
The promise of growing
The promise of ending
is labor and sharing
and loving!
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
It is a river, this language,
Once in a thousand years
Breaking a new course
Changing its way to the ocean.
It is mountain effluvia
Moving to valleys
And from nation to nation
Crossing borders and mixing.
Languages die like rivers.
Words wrapped round your tongue today
And broken to shape of thought
Between your teeth and lips speaking
Now and today
Shall be faded hieroglyphics
Ten thousand years from now.
Sing--and singing--remember
Your song dies and changes
And is not here to-morrow
Any more than the wind
Blowing ten thousand years ago.
The Promise of Living
The promise of living
with hope and thanksgiving
Is born of our loving our friends and our labor.
The promise of growing
With faith and with knowing
Is born of our sharing our love with our neighbor.
The promise of living
The promise of growing
Is born of our singing in joy and thanksgiving.
For many a year we've known these fields
And know all the work that makes them yield.
Are you ready to lend a hand? Ready to lend a hand?
By working together we'll bring in the harvest--
The blessings of harvest.
We plant each row with seeds of grain
And Providence sends us the sun and the rain.
By lending a hand, by lending an arm
Bring out from the farm,
Bring out the blessings of harvest.
Give thanks there was sunshine,
Give thanks there was rain,
Give thanks we have hands to deliver the grain!
Oh let us be joyful
Oh let us be grateful!
To the Lord for His blessing!
The promise of ending
In right understanding
is peace in our own hearts
and peace with our neighbor!
The promise of living
The promise of growing
The promise of ending
is labor and sharing
and loving!
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