Benjamin Britten (1913 – 1976), Rosa Mystica

Benjamin Britten


In the Gardens of God
In the daylight divine
Find me a place by thee
Mother of mine
The Rose in a Mystery
Where is it found
Is it anything true
Does it grow upon ground
It was made of earth’s mould
But it went from men’s eyes
And its place is a secret
And shut in the skies
In the Gardens of God
I shall look on thy loveliness
Mother of mine
But where was it formerly
Which is the spot that was blest in it once
Though now it is not
It is Galilee’s growth
It grew at God’s will
And broke into bloom upon Nazareth Hill
I shall keep time with thee, Mothеr of mine
Tell me thе name now
Tell me its name
The heart guesses easily
Is it the same
Mary, the Virgin
Well, the heart knows
She is the Mystery
She is that Rose
I shall come home to thee
Mother of mine
Is Mary that Rose, then
Mary, the tree
But the Blossom
The Blossom there
Who can it be
Who can her Rose be
Who? Who
It could be but One
Christ Jesus, our Lord
Her God and her Son
In the Gardens of God
Daylight divine
Shew me thy Son, Mother
Mother of mine
Does it smell sweet, too
In that holy place
Sweet unto God
And the sweetness is grace
The breath of it bathes the great heaven above
In grace that is charity
Grace that is love
To thy breast, thy breast
To thy glory divine
Draw me by charity
Mother of mine, Mother of mine

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