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Porgy, Maria, and Bess,
Robbins, and Peter, and Crown;
Life was a three-stringed harp
Brought from the woods to town.
Robbins, and Peter, and Crown;
Life was a three-stringed harp
Brought from the woods to town.
Marvelous tunes you rang
From passion, and death, and birth,
You who had laughed and wept
On the warm, brown lap of the earth.
From passion, and death, and birth,
You who had laughed and wept
On the warm, brown lap of the earth.
Now in your untried hands
An instrument, terrible, new,
Is thrust by a master who frowns,
Demanding strange songs of you
An instrument, terrible, new,
Is thrust by a master who frowns,
Demanding strange songs of you
God of the White and Black,
Grant us great hearts on the way
That we may understand
Until you have learned to play.
Grant us great hearts on the way
That we may understand
Until you have learned to play.
