Seventh Sunday after Trinity

Propers
Psalms from the Daily Office
Five motets based on today’s Introit
John Keble, “Seventh Sunday after Trinity”
Christopher Wordsworth, Hymn for Seventh Sunday after Trinity

[Psalm 31] Bow down thine ear: make haste to deliver us.

Psalms from the Daily Office

Below are plainsong renditions of the Psalms as published in the Saint Dunstan’s Plainsong Psalter.

SUNDAY

MONDAY

TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

FRIDAY

SATURDAY

Five motets based on today’s Introit

Christopher Tye, Omnes gentes plaudite manibus
Giovanni Gabrieli, Omnes gentes plaudite manibus
Orlando Gibbons, O clap your hands
Ralph Vaughan Williams, O clap your hands
Philip Moore, O clap your hands

Christopher Tye, Omnes gentes plaudite manibus

Both the Introit and the Alleluia include the first verse of Psalm 47, which contains many references to the elements of music: clapping, singing, melody, a merry noise, and the sound of a trump(et). That proliferation of musical allusions may account for the large number of settings of this Psalm to music. A setting by Christopher Tye (c.1505 – before 1573) of Psalm 47, Omnes gentes plaudite manibus (“O clap your hands, all people”), presents an early post-Reformation anthem by one of the most influential English composers of his day. The score is available here. It is sung in the recording below by the Choir of New College, Oxford, conducted by Edward Higginbottom.

Giovanni Gabrieli, Omnes gentes plaudite manibus

As one of the superstars of the Venetian School of composition — centered in the ceremonial and liturgy at the Cathedral San Marco — Giovanni Gabrieli (1553-1612) created a large body of elaborate pieces with multiple choirs, alternating with instruments and soloists. Such is the case in his 16-voice setting of Omnes gentes plaudite manibus (“O clap your hands, all people”), which includes most of the verses from Psalm 47. The score is available here. Below this work is sung by the Gabrieli Consort and Choir, conducted by Paul McCreesh.

Orlando Gibbons, O clap your hands

First performed in 1622 at a ceremony in Oxford when Gibbons and his friend William Heyther received the degree of Doctor of Music, one source states that Gibbons wrote O clap your hands as a qualifying exercise for the degree. The anthem is composed for 8 parts, and uses most of the verses from Psalm 47. It is sung in the performance below by the Oxford Camerata, conducted by Jeremy Summerly.

Ralph Vaughan Williams, O clap your hands

In 1920, Ralph Vaughan Williams composed an anthem based on verses 1, 2, and 5–8 of Psalm 47. It is scored for a four-part choir, organ, brass, and percussion. The anthem is sung here by the Christ Church Cathedral Choir, directed by Stephen Darlington.

Philip Moore, O clap your hands

In 2016, the Archbishop of Canterbury awarded organist and composer Philip Moore (b. 1943) the Cranmer Award for Worship “for his contribution to the English choral tradition as a composer, arranger and performer.” In 2018, Moore was commissioned by the ensemble The King’s Six to compose an anthem to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Moore used the text from Psalm 47 for the occasion.

John Keble, “Seventh Sunday after Trinity”

The following poem is from John Keble’s The Christian Year (1827).

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From whence can a man satisfy these men
with bread here in the wilderness?
St. Mark viii. 4.

    Go not away, thou weary soul:
    Heaven has in store a precious dole
Here on Bethsaida’s cold and darksome height,
    Where over rocks and sands arise
    Proud Sirion in the northern skies,
And Tabor’s lonely peak, ’twixt thee and noonday light.

    And far below, Gennesaret’s main
    Spreads many a mile of liquid plain,
(Though all seem gathered in one eager bound,)
    Then narrowing cleaves you palmy lea,
    Towards that deep sulphureous sea,
Where five proud cities lie, by one dire sentence drowned.

    Landscape of fear! yet, weary heart,
    Thou need’st not in thy gloom depart,
Nor fainting turn to seek thy distant home:
    Sweetly thy sickening throbs are eyed
    By the kind Saviour at thy side;
For healing and for balm e’en now thine hour is come.

    No fiery wing is seen to glide,
    No cates ambrosial are supplied,
But one poor fisher’s rude and scanty store
    Is all He asks (and more than needs)
    Who men and angels daily feeds,
And stills the wailing sea-bird on the hungry shore.

    The feast is o’er, the guests are gone,
    And over all that upland lone
The breeze of eve sweeps wildly as of old—
    But far unlike the former dreams,
    The heart’s sweet moonlight softly gleams
Upon life’s varied view, so joyless erst and cold.

    As mountain travellers in the night,
    When heaven by fits is dark and bright,
Pause listening on the silent heath, and hear
    Nor trampling hoof nor tinkling bell,
    Then bolder scale the rugged fell,
Conscious the more of One, ne’er seen, yet ever near:

    So when the tones of rapture gay
    On the lorn ear, die quite away,
The lonely world seems lifted nearer heaven;
    Seen daily, yet unmarked before,
    Earth’s common paths are strewn all o’er
With flowers of pensive hope, the wreath of man forgiven.

    The low sweet tones of Nature’s lyre
    No more on listless ears expire,
Nor vainly smiles along the shady way
    The primrose in her vernal nest,
    Nor unlamented sink to rest
Sweet roses one by one, nor autumn leaves decay.

    There’s not a star the heaven can show,
    There’s not a cottage-hearth below,
But feeds with solace kind the willing soul—
    Men love us, or they need our love;
    Freely they own, or heedless prove
The curse of lawless hearts, the joy of self-control.

    Then rouse thee from desponding sleep,
    Nor by the wayside lingering weep,
Nor fear to seek Him farther in the wild,
    Whose love can turn earth’s worst and least
    Into a conqueror’s royal feast:
Thou wilt not be untrue, thou shalt not be beguiled.

Christopher Wordsworth, Hymn for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity

The following hymn is from Bp. Christopher Wordsworth’s The Holy Year; or Hymns for Sundays and Holy Days throughout the Year (1862).

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Hymn 67.

Seventh Sunday after Trinity

“Neither will I offer burnt Sacrifices unto the Lord my God of that which doth cost me nothing.’” First Lesson for the Evening. — 2 Sam. xxiv. 24. I Chron. xxi. 24.

1.
LORD, not with poor and paltry gifts,
    And costless offerings,
Approach we to Thy Throne of Grace,
    Thou King of kings.

2.
Thy Salem saw the Patriarch come
    An only Son to slay,
O make us on Thine altar, Lord,
    Our Isaac lay.

3.

There David said, “I serve not God
    With that which costs me nought”
So may our best by us to Thee,
    O Lord, be brought.

4.
Salem beheld Thy Temple rise
    In state magnifical;
May we be Temples, Lord, to Thee,
    Who givest all.

5.
There God the Father gave the Son,
    The Son His Life did give,
That we by His most precious Death
    Might ever live.

6.
O spare not silver, grudge not gold,
    That perishable pelf,
But freely give to Him, who gave
    For vou Himself

7.
And Salem saw the Holy Ghost
    Come down in golden shower;
What gifts can we present to Him
    For that blest dower ?

8.
Bring Mary’s ointment, Widows’ mites
    Into God’s treasury cast,
And never with a Judas say,
    “Wherefore this waste?”

9.
So may we like true Israelites
    With joy to Salem come,
And Treasure, House, and Father, have
    In Heaven our Home.

10.
To God the Father Praises give.
    And Praise to God the Son,
O Praise the Holy Spirit, Praise
    The Three in One.

Amen.