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Kara Morgan, mezzo-soprano 

Carson Rose Schneider, piano

Sip along with us!

The Garland Songs - Linda Tutas Haugen 


Program notes from the composer… 

The texts of The Garland Songs are based upon poems written by Judy Garland in her late teens -- poems that she had printed and bound in leather and given to a few friends and relatives. They reflect the thoughts and feelings of a bright, sensitive and insightful young woman. While much of the poetry is quite dramatic, it is mature beyond her years, and above all, honest and direct. I always have as my goal to write music that will be aesthetically significant and of lasting beauty. I hope that I have in some way enhanced the meaning of these poems that allow us to look through the window at who Judy Garland was as a young woman. 









I. Lover’s Goodbye to a Departing Soldier 

Leave me, my love 

Leave sun and moon and wind and rain 

and hope and life behind 

Tread into darkness, oblivion, 

blindly walk with tragedy by your side 

Make all men free as we are free, 

but leave no room in your heart for me 

Fill it with justice and liberty, 

and leave me here to wait for thee 

But, come back to me, my love 

Not as you stand before me now, 

but half gone, half dead, half departed 

If body, sound thought and mind contorted, 

return my love, return 

I ask not all of you, 

for that shall not be mine again 

Come back changed, unrecognizable 

But oh, my love, come back 

II. The First Cigarette 

I was a woman 

Glamorous, sparkling, with eyes that shone, 

guarding secrets untold 

Lips that were petulant, pouting and bold 

I was a woman

with a body molded to gentlemen’s delight 

and pedicured toenails, shining and bright 

I patronized night clubs, danced until three, 

and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of men 

were mad about me 

I was a woman… 

Then, in a panic, my dream began to cool 

I mashed out the cigarette 

and was late for school 












The Giver of Stars: Six Poems of Amy Lowell - Edie Hill 

Program notes from the composer… 

The Giver of Stars is excerpted from a larger theatrical work entitled Amy Lowell: A Rare Pattern. Lowells’s life as a poet and how it was woven into her life with the actress, Ada Dwyer Russell, fascinated me. Lowell’s stern exterior is counterpoint to a tender heartedness and vulnerability which she shared with her beloved Ada. This cycle represents the arc of their love and life together. 
















I. Pyrotechnics 

Our meeting was like the upward swish of a rocket 

In the blue night. 

I do not know when it burst; 

But now I stand gaping, 

In a glory of falling stars 

II. Flame Apples 

Little hote apples of fire 

Burst out of the flaming stem 

Of my heart 

I do not understand how you quickened and grew, 

And you amaze me 

While I gather you.

I lay you, one by one, 

Upon a table. 

And now you seem beautiful and strange to me, 

And I stand before you, 


III. Vernal Equinox 

The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies between

          me and my book; 

And the South Wind, washing through the room, 

Makes the candles quiver. 

My nerves sting at a spatter of rain on the shutter, 

And I am uneasy with the thrusting of green shoots

Outside, in the night 

Why are you not here to overpower me with your 

           tense and urgent love? 





Love what you heard and curious to explore more?

Check out these song suggestions by Minnesota icons! 

Libby Larsen, “Try Me Good King”: for the history buffs, this intense song cycle features texts taken from the last words of the wives of Henry VIII 

Jocelyn Hagen, “Songs of Fields and Prairies”: a beautiful cycle of 7 songs about fields and prairies 

Edie Hill, “Between the Limbs, Music”: four songs about love, life, and death


Wendy Durrwachter, “Only One”: a song about a special recipe, commissioned by OOPS MN 

Abbie Betinis, “Nattsinger” (Nightsongs): a cycle of seven songs exploring the nature of time from sunset to dawn; this is a chamber piece for clarinet, high voice, and piano



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III. My Love is Lost 

My love is lost 

I held it as a handful of sand 

clenching my fist to hold it there 

Yet bit by bit, it slipped through my aching fingers, 

now nothing but memories of every smile, 

every kiss, and above all, every word 

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart 

It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul 

And when I opened my tired hand 

and found my love was gone, 

I trembled, trembled and died 

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart 

It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul 

I struggle to hide my deadness, 

to conceal the emptiness in my eyes that sparkle with tears, 

always so close, but never come 

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart 

It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul 

IV. Homage: The Wish 

Would that my pen were tipped with a magic wand 

That I could tell of my love for you 

That I could write with the surge I feel when I gaze upon your sweet face

Would that my throat were blessed by the nightingale 

That I could sing of my heart’s great love 

in some lonely tree flooded with silver 

Sing till I burst my breast with such passion 

Sing then fall dead to lay at your feet 

Would that my pen were tipped with a magic wand 

IV. The Giver of Stars 

Hold your soul open for my welcoming 

Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me 

With its clear and rippled coolness, 

That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest, 

Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory. 

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me,

That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire,

The life and joy of tongues of flame, 

And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,

I may rouse the blear-eyed world, 

And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

V. Autumnal Equinox 

Why do you not sleep, Beloved? 

Is it so cold that the stars stand out of the sky 

Like golden nails not driven home. 

The fire crackles pleasantly,

And I sit here listening 

For your regular breathing from the room above

What keeps you awake, Beloved? 

Is it the same nightmare that keeps me strained with 


So that I cannot read? 

VI. A Sprig of Rosemary 

I cannot see your face. 

When I think of you, 

It is your hands which I see. 

Your hands 


Holding a book, 

Resting for a moment on the sill of a window. 

My eyes keep always the sight of your hands, 

But my heart holds the sound of your voice, 

And the soft brightness which is your soul.


Ladies, Lyrics, and Lagers_beer.png
Ladies, Lyrics, and Lagers_beer.png

Beer Pairing



Golden Hammer IPA (ABV: 7% IBU: 70)


WHY? The Golden Hammer is a well-balanced marriage of West and East Coast IPA traditions - a new type of IPA popularized in the Northeast, where Amy Lowell was born and raised in Brookline, Massachusetts. One of her brothers would go on to become president of Harvard College and Amy saw her first poem, “Fixed Idea,” published in the Atlantic in 1910.

Beer Pairing




De-Lovely Porter (ABV: 5.6% IBU: 33)

WHY? Urban Growler’s flagship porter is not only smooth and delicious, but the name is a reference to one of Cole Porter’s most famous tunes. Judy sang this and many more Porter hits over the course of her career, most famously in her thrilling medley tribute to the composer at the 1965 Academy Awards.

Can't get enough of Ladies, Lyrics & Lagers?


Read about The Giver of Stars from a pianist's perspective.

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