The lyrics are written by Maude Gordon-Roby from To Music.

Fly back where Melodies like lilies grow,
My weary heart is bending low;

Fly higher yet to joyful realms above,
Where holy Angels dwell in love.

Fly higher still and hear the Angel throng
And bring to me their Glory-song:

Ah Music, thou and I above the World
May dwell where heaven with shining song is pearled!

While Sun and Moon and all the planets roll
I’ll love thee, Music, language of my soul!

Music-lark from on high, song that doth fly, Spark of the sky!

When birds begin to sing and winds are calm,
When spring is here again then you will know, 
When the earth begins to warm, you can grow. 

Like a tree with branches budding,
Like a flow’r in spring, 
When I think of what we’ve seen and all we know,
When I look at where we’ve been and where we’ll go,
I know that spring will come again and we will know,
When the earth begins to warm, you can grow. 

Like a bird with wings unfolding, 
Like a child with dreams beginning, 
Like a tree with branches budding,
Like a flow’r in spring, 
You can grow.

Fair boy, your eyes, they haunt my soul
As the moon haunts the night. 
The stars all fall at the sound of your voice. 
The mountains sigh at your sight. 

No flame can rival the fire of my love
No canyon was ever so deep. 
My soul sings your song through endless night; 
Your voice, it haunts my sleep. 

No rose is so sweet, no meadow so fair,
No star is more radiant above. 
Until death lay me down beneath your shade,
You always shall be my love. 

Fair boy, your eyes, they haunt my soul: 
A ghost that never shall part. 
I wander in starlight, awaiting your call,
O pulse of my heart. 

(Fair boy, your eyes, they haunt my soul.)

Is tu mo grha (I love you)
A chuisle mo chroí (O pulse of my heart)

"Joy" by Jocelyn Hagen is a choral work that sets a text by Sara Teasdale. The text is a poem titled "Joy" by Sara Teasdale, which is in the public domain. Here are the lyrics to the poem:

I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
I will sing to the stars in the sky,
I love, I am loved, he is mine,
Now at last I can die!

I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars, Now at last I can live!

Lyrics by Robyn Watson

Once upon a non-fairy tale was a cocoa-hued tune in shades of blue
good friends of she whose new business boomed brighter than the fireworks on Independence Day
majority observes jealousy,
inflaming the cycle of insanity

with a shattered, furious, frustrated, fiery heart
her rigid pen fought a mighty battle

Lies activated
Cops called
innocence jailed

business literally explodes
then innocence is dragged out
and turned into involuntary ornaments on the local tree.
It's not even Christmas yet.
She finds out shattered, furious, frustrated, fiery is her heart
and now the rigid P.S.A.s begin.

With a shattered furious, frustrated, fiery heart
her rigid pen fought a mighty battle.

She morphs into a knight
her armor evolves
with ev'ry word she types (with ev'ry word she types)

"Southern Horrors" and "The Red Record" read like the scariest bulk of fiction
and has an equal amount of bloodshed as the Civil War
but they're frigid facts
without a stain to be found.

She shouted for humanity
and scolded the lack of
without a sound her verbiage stabbed

Confederate flags
Jim Crow
white sheet
masked men
and leaders of the "free world"

without a touch

with a shattered, furious, frustrated, fiery heart
her rigid pen fought a mighty battle

without a touch.

Movement 1: Stabat Mater dolorosa

Stabat Mater dolorosa
juxta crucem lacrimosa,
dum pendebat Filius. 

Cujus animam gementem,
contristatam et dolentem
pertransivit gladius. 

O quam tristis et afflicta
fuit illa benedicta,
Mater Unigenti! 

Quæ mærebat et dolebat,
et tremebat cum videbat
nati pœnas inclyti.

The sad mother was standing,
weeping, next to the cross
on which her son was hanging. 

His groaning soul, 
deeply saddened and aching,
was pierced through by a sword. 

O how sad and afflicted 
was that blessed mother
of the only-begotten son! 

The kind aching mother was mourning
and aching, when she beheld
the pains of her renowned son. 

Movement 2: Quis est homo

Quis est homo qui non fleret,
Matrem Christi si videret
in tanto supplicio?

Quis non posset contristari
Christi Matrem contemplari
dolentem cum Filio?

Pro peccatis suǎ gentis
vidit Jesum in tormetis,
et flagellis subditum.

Vidit suum dulcem natum
moriendo desolatum
dum emisit spiritum.

Who is the man who would not cry
at seeing the mother of Christ
in such a great ordeal?

Who could not be saddened deeply
at gazing upon the mother of Christ,
mourning with her son?

For the sins of his people
she saw Jesus in torment
and subdued by scourges.

She saw her sweet son
desolate in dying,
while he gave up his spirit.

Movement 5: Sancta Mater

Sancta Mater, istud agas,
crucifixi fige plagas
cordi meo valide.

Tui nati vulnerati
tam dignati pro me pati,
pœnas mecum divide.

Fac me vere tecum flere,
crucifixo condolere,
donec ego vixero.

Juxta Crucem tecum stare,
te libenter sociare
in planctu desidero.

Holy mother, may you grant this,
firmly fix the stripes of the crucified
onto my heart.

Divide with me the pains
of your wounded son
who was so worthy to suffer for me.

Make me gently to weep with you
and to feel the pain of the crucified,
until I will have lived.

Let me stand with you next to the cross,
and let me unite with you
in your breast-beaten grief.

O Oriens, splendor lucis ætérnæ et sol iustitiæ: veni, et illúmina sedéntes in ténebris et umbra mortis.

O Morning Star, splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness: Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.