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Judas Maccabaeus (HWV 63) Movements
Overture in G minor
Mourn, ye afflicted children
Well may your sorrows
From this dread scene these, adverse pow’rs
For Sion lamentation make
Not vain is all this storm of grief
Pious orgies, pious airs, decent sorrow
Oh Father, whose almighty pow’r
I feel the Deity within
Arm, ye brave!
‘Tis well, my friends
Call forth thy pow’rs, my soul
To Heav’ns Almighty King we kneel
Oh liberty, thou choicest treasure
Come, ever smiling liberty
Oh Judas, may these noble views
‘Tis liberty, dear liberty alone,
Come, ever smiling liberty
Lead on! Judah disdains the galling load of hostile chains
So will’d my father now at rest
Disdainful of danger, we’ll rush on the foe, Semichorus
Ambition! If e’er honour was thine aim
No unhallow’d desire our breasts shall inspire
Oh Judas, may thy just pursuits
May balmy peace, and wreath’d renown
Far brighter than the morning
Haste we, my brethren
Hear us, oh Lord
Fall’n is the foe
Victorious hero! Fame shall tell
So rapid thy course is
May well we hope our freedom receive
Flowing joys do now surround me
Sion now her head shall raise
Oh let eternal honours crown his name,
From mighty Kings we took the spoil
Hail, Judea, happy land
Thanks to my brethren
How vain is man, who boasts in fight
Great in wisdom, great in glory
Oh Judas, of my brethen!
Oh! wretched Israel!
Be comforted
The Lord worketh wonders
My arms! against his Gorgias
Sound an alarm! Your silver trumpets sound
Enough! To heav’n leave the rest
With pious hearts, and brave as pious
Ye worshippers of God
Wise men, flatt’ring may decieve us
Oh! Never bow we down
Father of Heav’n!,
See yon flames, that from the altar broke
Oh grant it, Heav’n that our long woes
So shall the lute and harp awake
From Capharsalama, on eagle wings I fly
Pow’rful guardians of all nature
All his mercies I review
Happy, oh, thrice happy we
Yet more, Nicanor lies with thousands slain
But low! The conqueror comes
See the conqu’ring hero comes!
March in G major
March in F major
Sing unto God, and high affections raise
Sweet flow the strains, that strike my feasted ear
With honour let desert be crown’d
Peace to my countrymen
Oh! had I Jubal’s lyre
To our great God be all the honour giv’n
Again the earth let gratitude descend
Oh lovely peace, with plenty crown’d
Rejoice, oh Judah! And, in songs divine
Hallelujah Chorus and Amen
Supplemental March in E flat major (fragment)

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