Word: hymning
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Nixon found friendship in the last year because of their shared interest in the future of Russia. But - there is also something about that high, lonely and rutted road of the presidency that evokes a mystic camaraderie among the small band of survivors. Clinton at the end quoted a hymn: "Grant that I may realize that the trifling of life creates differences, but that in the higher things we are all one." Was it the wind, or was there a catch in the voice of the 47-year-old President...
...illegal. Communicants file up to the altar rail for a long drag on a cigarette -- a precious, stale relic from the last carton of Marlboros sold before the U.S. government banned smoking in 1997. The priest blesses the faithful, they cough in response, and all exeunt to today's hymn, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes...
...Chant was composed to serve and honor spiritual texts, but it seems unlikely that its new fans are paying much heed to the Latin words. After all, would they really be out there dancing to Salve Festa Dies (Hail, Festive Day) if they knew that one verse of this hymn contains the dour plea "Break the chains of hell, the shadows of the dungeon/ And call up again whatever has fallen into the abyss...
...music but missed its heart. "You can listen to a song and be moved," Reagon says in one episode. "But within the African-American tradition there is a high value put on being caught up in the singing." Listening to Aretha Franklin's graceful flight through the softly powerful hymn Never Grow Old, or the Barrett Sisters' vocal exodus through the redemptive gospel song I Don't Feel Noways Tired, one cannot help being caught up, regardless of one's personal faith. Wade in the Water is a deluge of joy that sweeps the listener away...
...impossibly fey were it not for the down-but-not-quite-out sensibilities of the two writers. Waits, the bard of last-chance saloons, has never taken deader aim at the line that separates the mordant from the maudlin. On the one hand, there's November, a bitter hymn to the month that "only believes in a pile of dead leaves/ And a moon that's the color of bone." On the other, there's I'll Shoot the Moon, in which Kathchen, daydreaming about her lover, vows to "be the pennies on your eyes" and "build a nest...