Echoes of Time
PROGRAM NOTES AND LYRICS
Spring Concerts, 2026
PROGRAM NOTES AND LYRICS
Spring Concerts, 2026
We hope you enjoy this program and appreciate your presence and support.
With gratitude,
Will Gunn, Claire McCahan, Molly McCahan
---------------------
Today’s program is the result of a shared enthusiasm for incorporating folk and nature-themed music into traditional music programming. With the goal of fostering connection to self, community, and place through music, this collaboration with Spiral Songs has been an exciting and uniquely creative process.
We have programmed Echoes of Time as an expression of the different phases of human life across time and their resonance with the turning of the seasons. It is a musical journey exploring the parallels between nature’s cycles and life’s milestones, highlighting the connections we have to one another and to the earth. We recognize that each stage of life is filled with hope, joy, and grief. Our experiences are reflected in the rich vernacular sounds of our musical predecessors that spoke so deeply of the human A condition. Our selections draw from various musical traditions, with a particular focus on American folk songs and choral compositions.
Our program begins with Turning, a call from the ending of winter, when the early dawn of the year begins to peak over the horizon, when we join the circle and begin. In Growing, we unfurl with Libby Larsen’s “Fiddlehead,” which expresses the simple enjoyment of this early-spring plant, one of the first signs of new growth. We then move to David Mallet’s “The Garden Song,” evoking childhood and asking for love, patience, and time to grow.
I shall pass through this world but once…
I shall pass through this word but once,
So any good or any kindness I can show
Let me do it now;
I shall pass through this world but once.
Alaska Spring III. Fiddlehead
Above the still frozen ground
A thin sheath of brown
Covering a tight spiral of green:
Fiddlehead, or lady fern,
To be sauteed with a pinch
Of salt and pepper.
When I kneel to harvest them
With my knife,
I feel the last of winter’s cold
Rising from the ground
And I am lost in this small pleasure
Nothing can contain.
The Garden Song
Inch by inch, row by row,
Gonna make this garden grow.
All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row,
Someone bless the seeds I sow.
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumbling down.
Pulling weeds and pickin’ stones,
Man is made of dreams and bones.
Feel the need to grow my own
‘Cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain,
Find my way in nature’s chain,
To my body and my brain
To the music from the land
Plant your rows straight and long
Thicker than the pray’r and song.
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Old crow watchin’ hungrily,
From his perch in yonder tree,
In my garden I’m as free
As that feathered beak up there.
In Discovering, we hear the sounds of spring and feel the bright joy of youth in Vaughan Williams' setting of “It Was a Lover and His Lass” and “The Cuckoo.”
It Was a Lover and His Lass
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
When birds do sing hey ding a-ding a-ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no,
How that a life was but a flower
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
And therefore take the present time
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no
For love is crowned with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
When birds do sing hey ding a-ding a-ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.
The Cuckoo
Oh, the cuckoo, she’s a pretty bird,
She warbles as she flies
And she never says a cuckoo
‘Til the fourth day of July
Gonna build me a log cabin
In the mountains so high,
So I can see my honey,
He’s a walkin’, walkin by.
Jack-a-Diamonds
I’ve known you down from old.
You have taken
All my silver and my gold.
As we transition to Belonging, adolescence, we experience the warmth of summer in “Summer Solstice Round” and witness the search for home in “Wander-Thirst” and “The Road Home.”
Summer Solstice Round
Sun shine out strong make the daylight last long
Shine, shine, shine, shine
Catch the light hurl it in the face of night
Shine, Shine, Shine, Shine
Wander-Thirst
Beyond the East the sunrise,
Beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst
That will not let me be
It works in me like a madness
To bid me say goodbye
For the seas call, and the stars call,
And Oh! The call of the sky.
I know not where the white road runs,
Nor what the blue hills are,
But a man can have the sun for friend,
And for his guide a star.
And there’s no end of voyaging
When once the voice is heard,
For the river calls, and the road calls,
And Oh! The call of a bird!
Yonder the long horizon lies,
And there by night and day
The old ships draw us home again,
The young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must,
And if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun
And the white road, and the sky.
The Road Home
Tell me where is the road I can call my own
That I left, that I lost, so long ago?
All these years I have wandered, Oh when will I know
There’s a way, there’s a road that will lead me home?
After wind, after rain, when the dark is done,
As I wake from a dream in the gold of day,
Through the air there’s a calling from far away
There’s a voice I can hear that will lead me home.
Rise up, follow me, come away is the call,
With the love in your heart as the only song;
There is no such beauty as where you belong,
Rise up, follow me, I will lead you home.
Grounding, late summer and the time of deepening roots, presents the search for truth as heard through selections from the ongoing civil rights movements including “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” written in 1900 and known as the Black National Anthem, “If I Can Help Somebody,” a setting of words loved by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (later inspiring his famous “Drum Major” speech in Memphis shortly before his assassination), and Pat Humphries’ 1984 anthem, “Never Turning Back.”
Lift Every Voice and Sing
Lift ev’ry voice and sing, till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmony 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, till victory is won.
If I Can Help Somebody
If I can help somebody as I pass along
If I can cheer somebody with a word or song
If I can show somebody he is traveling wrong;
Then my living shall not be in vain;
If I can do my duty as a person ought;
If I can bring back beauty to a world upwrought;
If I can spread love’s message that the master taught
Then my living shall not be in vain
Never Turning Back
We’re gonna keep on walking forward
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on walking proudly
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on singing loudly
Never turning back
We’re gonna work for change together
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on walking forward
Never turning back
The second half welcomes us into the season of fall, adulthood, and Reaching; a time of change, of trusting one’s voice, and a desire for community. We begin with “Appalachian Round,” a traditional American folk song with contemporary lyrics attributed to George Furse, followed by Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A-Changin’” and the American hymn, “How Can I Keep from Singing?”
Appalachian Round
Take me back oh hills I love.
Lift me from this lonely bed.
Light my way with stars above.
Curl soft winds about my head.
Wash my feet in crystal streams.
Cradle my arms in boughs of oak.
Breathe the scent of pine for dreams.
Wrap me tight in earthen cloak.
The Times They Are A-Changin’
Come gather ‘round people wherever you roam,
And admit that the waters around you have grown,
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone,
If your time to you is worth savin’,
And you better start swimmin’, or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times, they are a-changin’.
Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don’t criticize what you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command.
Your old road is rapidly aging.
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend a hand.
For the times, they are a-changin’.
The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast.
The slow one now will later be fast.
As the present now will later be past,
The order is rapidly fading.
And the first one now will later be last,
The first one now will later be last,
The first one now will later be last.
For the times they are a-changin’.
How Can I Keep from Singing?
My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentations,
I hear the real though far-off hymn that hails a new creation,
Through all the tumult and the strife I hear that music ringing
It sounds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?
What though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth it liveth
What though the darkness round me close, songs in the night it giveth
No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I’m clinging,
Since love is lord of heaven and earth, How can I keep from singing?
When tyrants tremble sick with fear, and hear their death knells ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near, How can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile, our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled, How can I keep from singing?
Reflecting takes us to late adulthood and the liminal time between fall and winter, peaked with memory and questioning. This consideration for what has been and what might be is wistfully articulated in Phil Ochs’ ballad “When I’m Gone,” while Ešenvalds’ nostalgic “Only in Sleep”—set to a poem by Sara Teasdale – beautifully captures the melancholy and fullness of growing old.
When I’m Gone
There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone,
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone,
And you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t feel the flowing of the time when I’m gone,
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I’m gone,
My pen won’t pour a lyric song when I’m gong
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t breathe the bracing air when I’m gone,
And I can’t even worry ‘bout my cares when I’m gone,
Won’t be asked to do my share when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t be runnin’ from the rain when I’m gone,
And I can’t even suffer from the pain when I’m gone,
Can’t say who’s to praise and who’s to blame when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
Won’t see the golden of the sun when I’m gone,
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I’m gone,
Can’t be singing louder than the guns while I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
All my days won’t be dances of delight when I’m gone,
And the sands will be shiftin’ from my sights when I’m gone,
Can’t add my name into the fight when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone,
And I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone,
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
Only in Sleep
Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild
Only in sleep time is forgotten,
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the dollhouse stood at the turn of the stair
The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild.
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I, am I too a child?
As we circle back to Turning, we have reached a threshold which is both end and beginning. “I shall pass through this world but once…,” composed for the Pemi Chorus, represents an ethos of compassion, and brings our concert to its close.
We Shall Be Known
We shall be known by the company we keep
By the ones who circle round to tend these fires
We shall be known by the ones who sow and reap
The seeds of change alive from deep within the earth.
It is time now, it is time now that we thrive
It is time we lead ourselves into the well
It is time now, and what a time to be alive
In this great turning we shall learn to lead in love.
I shall pass through this world but once…
I shall through this world but once,
So any good or any kindness I can show
Let me do it now;
I shall pass through this world but once.
Let me not defer it, let me not neglect it,
or any fellow being,
I shall not pass this way again.
With gratitude,
Will Gunn, Claire McCahan, Molly McCahan
---------------------
Today’s program is the result of a shared enthusiasm for incorporating folk and nature-themed music into traditional music programming. With the goal of fostering connection to self, community, and place through music, this collaboration with Spiral Songs has been an exciting and uniquely creative process.
We have programmed Echoes of Time as an expression of the different phases of human life across time and their resonance with the turning of the seasons. It is a musical journey exploring the parallels between nature’s cycles and life’s milestones, highlighting the connections we have to one another and to the earth. We recognize that each stage of life is filled with hope, joy, and grief. Our experiences are reflected in the rich vernacular sounds of our musical predecessors that spoke so deeply of the human A condition. Our selections draw from various musical traditions, with a particular focus on American folk songs and choral compositions.
Our program begins with Turning, a call from the ending of winter, when the early dawn of the year begins to peak over the horizon, when we join the circle and begin. In Growing, we unfurl with Libby Larsen’s “Fiddlehead,” which expresses the simple enjoyment of this early-spring plant, one of the first signs of new growth. We then move to David Mallet’s “The Garden Song,” evoking childhood and asking for love, patience, and time to grow.
I shall pass through this world but once…
I shall pass through this word but once,
So any good or any kindness I can show
Let me do it now;
I shall pass through this world but once.
Alaska Spring III. Fiddlehead
Above the still frozen ground
A thin sheath of brown
Covering a tight spiral of green:
Fiddlehead, or lady fern,
To be sauteed with a pinch
Of salt and pepper.
When I kneel to harvest them
With my knife,
I feel the last of winter’s cold
Rising from the ground
And I am lost in this small pleasure
Nothing can contain.
The Garden Song
Inch by inch, row by row,
Gonna make this garden grow.
All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row,
Someone bless the seeds I sow.
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumbling down.
Pulling weeds and pickin’ stones,
Man is made of dreams and bones.
Feel the need to grow my own
‘Cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain,
Find my way in nature’s chain,
To my body and my brain
To the music from the land
Plant your rows straight and long
Thicker than the pray’r and song.
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Old crow watchin’ hungrily,
From his perch in yonder tree,
In my garden I’m as free
As that feathered beak up there.
In Discovering, we hear the sounds of spring and feel the bright joy of youth in Vaughan Williams' setting of “It Was a Lover and His Lass” and “The Cuckoo.”
It Was a Lover and His Lass
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
When birds do sing hey ding a-ding a-ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no,
How that a life was but a flower
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
And therefore take the present time
With a hey ho, and a hey no-ni-no
For love is crowned with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time
When birds do sing hey ding a-ding a-ding,
Sweet lovers love the spring.
The Cuckoo
Oh, the cuckoo, she’s a pretty bird,
She warbles as she flies
And she never says a cuckoo
‘Til the fourth day of July
Gonna build me a log cabin
In the mountains so high,
So I can see my honey,
He’s a walkin’, walkin by.
Jack-a-Diamonds
I’ve known you down from old.
You have taken
All my silver and my gold.
As we transition to Belonging, adolescence, we experience the warmth of summer in “Summer Solstice Round” and witness the search for home in “Wander-Thirst” and “The Road Home.”
Summer Solstice Round
Sun shine out strong make the daylight last long
Shine, shine, shine, shine
Catch the light hurl it in the face of night
Shine, Shine, Shine, Shine
Wander-Thirst
Beyond the East the sunrise,
Beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst
That will not let me be
It works in me like a madness
To bid me say goodbye
For the seas call, and the stars call,
And Oh! The call of the sky.
I know not where the white road runs,
Nor what the blue hills are,
But a man can have the sun for friend,
And for his guide a star.
And there’s no end of voyaging
When once the voice is heard,
For the river calls, and the road calls,
And Oh! The call of a bird!
Yonder the long horizon lies,
And there by night and day
The old ships draw us home again,
The young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must,
And if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun
And the white road, and the sky.
The Road Home
Tell me where is the road I can call my own
That I left, that I lost, so long ago?
All these years I have wandered, Oh when will I know
There’s a way, there’s a road that will lead me home?
After wind, after rain, when the dark is done,
As I wake from a dream in the gold of day,
Through the air there’s a calling from far away
There’s a voice I can hear that will lead me home.
Rise up, follow me, come away is the call,
With the love in your heart as the only song;
There is no such beauty as where you belong,
Rise up, follow me, I will lead you home.
Grounding, late summer and the time of deepening roots, presents the search for truth as heard through selections from the ongoing civil rights movements including “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” written in 1900 and known as the Black National Anthem, “If I Can Help Somebody,” a setting of words loved by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (later inspiring his famous “Drum Major” speech in Memphis shortly before his assassination), and Pat Humphries’ 1984 anthem, “Never Turning Back.”
Lift Every Voice and Sing
Lift ev’ry voice and sing, till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmony 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, till victory is won.
If I Can Help Somebody
If I can help somebody as I pass along
If I can cheer somebody with a word or song
If I can show somebody he is traveling wrong;
Then my living shall not be in vain;
If I can do my duty as a person ought;
If I can bring back beauty to a world upwrought;
If I can spread love’s message that the master taught
Then my living shall not be in vain
Never Turning Back
We’re gonna keep on walking forward
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on walking proudly
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on singing loudly
Never turning back
We’re gonna work for change together
Never turning back
We’re gonna keep on walking forward
Never turning back
The second half welcomes us into the season of fall, adulthood, and Reaching; a time of change, of trusting one’s voice, and a desire for community. We begin with “Appalachian Round,” a traditional American folk song with contemporary lyrics attributed to George Furse, followed by Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A-Changin’” and the American hymn, “How Can I Keep from Singing?”
Appalachian Round
Take me back oh hills I love.
Lift me from this lonely bed.
Light my way with stars above.
Curl soft winds about my head.
Wash my feet in crystal streams.
Cradle my arms in boughs of oak.
Breathe the scent of pine for dreams.
Wrap me tight in earthen cloak.
The Times They Are A-Changin’
Come gather ‘round people wherever you roam,
And admit that the waters around you have grown,
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone,
If your time to you is worth savin’,
And you better start swimmin’, or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times, they are a-changin’.
Come mothers and fathers throughout the land
And don’t criticize what you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command.
Your old road is rapidly aging.
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend a hand.
For the times, they are a-changin’.
The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast.
The slow one now will later be fast.
As the present now will later be past,
The order is rapidly fading.
And the first one now will later be last,
The first one now will later be last,
The first one now will later be last.
For the times they are a-changin’.
How Can I Keep from Singing?
My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentations,
I hear the real though far-off hymn that hails a new creation,
Through all the tumult and the strife I hear that music ringing
It sounds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?
What though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth it liveth
What though the darkness round me close, songs in the night it giveth
No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I’m clinging,
Since love is lord of heaven and earth, How can I keep from singing?
When tyrants tremble sick with fear, and hear their death knells ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near, How can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile, our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled, How can I keep from singing?
Reflecting takes us to late adulthood and the liminal time between fall and winter, peaked with memory and questioning. This consideration for what has been and what might be is wistfully articulated in Phil Ochs’ ballad “When I’m Gone,” while Ešenvalds’ nostalgic “Only in Sleep”—set to a poem by Sara Teasdale – beautifully captures the melancholy and fullness of growing old.
When I’m Gone
There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone,
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone,
And you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t feel the flowing of the time when I’m gone,
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I’m gone,
My pen won’t pour a lyric song when I’m gong
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t breathe the bracing air when I’m gone,
And I can’t even worry ‘bout my cares when I’m gone,
Won’t be asked to do my share when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t be runnin’ from the rain when I’m gone,
And I can’t even suffer from the pain when I’m gone,
Can’t say who’s to praise and who’s to blame when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
Won’t see the golden of the sun when I’m gone,
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I’m gone,
Can’t be singing louder than the guns while I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
All my days won’t be dances of delight when I’m gone,
And the sands will be shiftin’ from my sights when I’m gone,
Can’t add my name into the fight when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone,
And I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone,
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone,
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.
Only in Sleep
Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild
Only in sleep time is forgotten,
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the dollhouse stood at the turn of the stair
The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild.
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I, am I too a child?
As we circle back to Turning, we have reached a threshold which is both end and beginning. “I shall pass through this world but once…,” composed for the Pemi Chorus, represents an ethos of compassion, and brings our concert to its close.
We Shall Be Known
We shall be known by the company we keep
By the ones who circle round to tend these fires
We shall be known by the ones who sow and reap
The seeds of change alive from deep within the earth.
It is time now, it is time now that we thrive
It is time we lead ourselves into the well
It is time now, and what a time to be alive
In this great turning we shall learn to lead in love.
I shall pass through this world but once…
I shall through this world but once,
So any good or any kindness I can show
Let me do it now;
I shall pass through this world but once.
Let me not defer it, let me not neglect it,
or any fellow being,
I shall not pass this way again.