Songs of New England
︎︎︎ C. Sandbatch
︎ Oct 10, 2026
I. Invocatio
(Andante religioso)
May I summon you with belief, or some tawdry ancient thing?
A lock of hair, a splintered nail, two birds that will not sing?
In older times, we had our little gods, blood upon the stone;
I’ve lately caught the awful, recent shrift of suffering alone.
So let the learned keep their proofs, the pious farm their dread;
I’ll take our little lie of love and lay it in our bed.
And when the final morning comes, and all the heavens cease,
I’ll ask no resurrection of love, nor days of snowblind peace...
Only that somewhere, once again, beneath a mortal sky,
You turn to hear me call your name, and do not pass me by.
II. Circulus
(Scherzo interrogativo)
Would, would we? Would we know
at the end?
Ways to teach any loop to grow past
an old familiar bend
Could we know, or find a way
to finally stand?
Should we smash our loops & loose our
feet from sand?
Would we know, if we saw, drops of water,
beginning rivers grand?
Do mountains start, here, or end?
Tell me, my deepest, oldest friend!
III. Reditus
(Adagio lamentoso)
Now that grand river drops as grief
Thoughts of having stayed too long
I am so far from my home, rolling
Already back my mind to then
High, wrong winds Last of lights
Mountain after mountains
Loose their yellowing leaves.
Only the light upon the leaves
Passeth now. Return agayne.
(Andante religioso)
May I summon you with belief, or some tawdry ancient thing?
A lock of hair, a splintered nail, two birds that will not sing?
In older times, we had our little gods, blood upon the stone;
I’ve lately caught the awful, recent shrift of suffering alone.
So let the learned keep their proofs, the pious farm their dread;
I’ll take our little lie of love and lay it in our bed.
And when the final morning comes, and all the heavens cease,
I’ll ask no resurrection of love, nor days of snowblind peace...
Only that somewhere, once again, beneath a mortal sky,
You turn to hear me call your name, and do not pass me by.
II. Circulus
(Scherzo interrogativo)
Would, would we? Would we know
at the end?
Ways to teach any loop to grow past
an old familiar bend
Could we know, or find a way
to finally stand?
Should we smash our loops & loose our
feet from sand?
Would we know, if we saw, drops of water,
beginning rivers grand?
Do mountains start, here, or end?
Tell me, my deepest, oldest friend!
III. Reditus
(Adagio lamentoso)
Now that grand river drops as grief
Thoughts of having stayed too long
I am so far from my home, rolling
Already back my mind to then
High, wrong winds Last of lights
Mountain after mountains
Loose their yellowing leaves.
Only the light upon the leaves
Passeth now. Return agayne.