Melancolia de uma tarde de domingo

Sol desmaiado, chove, paira um lamento, a depressão bate à porta.
Aleluia! com Purcell e Emma Kirkby no seu melhor.



Now, now that the sun
hath veild his light
And bid the world goodnight;
To the soft bed my body I dispose,
But where shall my soul repose?
Dear, dear God, even in Thy arms,
And can there be any so sweet security!
Then to thy rest, O my soul!
And singing, praise the mercy
That prolongs thy days.

Hallelujah!