| Track | Time | Play | 
| I. The Moon's Abroad | 05:15 | |
| II. Throbs The Night With Mystic Silence | 02:56 | |
| III. Gnomes of the Night | 05:32 | 
From the poems of Ḥaim Naḥman Bialik (1873–1934)
 Sung in English
I. THE MOON'S ABROAD
The moon's abroad, and silence like a beast 
 creeps o'er the forest, and from every tree 
 there drips a secret silent light that steals 
 and paws its stealthy way from trunk to trunk; 
 of blue and silver weaves its embroideries. 
 And silence shrouds each clump and shrouds each tree, 
 and each in darkling leafage folds him round, 
 and thinks unto himself his secret thoughts. 
 Enwrapped in meditation, all the world 
 stands laden with a secret glorious old. 
 As though within her inmost fastness 
 there slept upon a golden couch 
 immured in spotless purity 
 perennial youth and priceless beauty 
 from the days of old. 
 A fairy princess charmed from her home. 
 And he the wood were charged to mark her breath 
 until her royal savior come to save perchance. 
 She dreams in secret that in vain in secret that it rain. 
 Through sylvan maze or barren wilderness, 
 through sylvan maze, or barren waste of water roams 
 the prince in quest of his beloved. 
 He little knows that she in all her loveliness 
 is hid deep in the bosom of the sleeping pool.
II. THROBS THE NIGHT WITH MYSTIC SILENCE
Throbs the night with mystic silence, 
 hushed the weary world and still; 
 and the ever flowing brooklet murmurs 
 neath the resting mill. 
 Darker grows the night and darker, 
 shadows upon shadows creep; 
 one bright star and then another 
 fall into the darkness deep. 
 All the world is wrapped in silence, 
 but my heart seeks no repose; 
 and within my heart a fountain softly 
 bubbles there and flows. 
 All the world is wrapped in silence, 
 as I sit here pensively; 
 one world have I yea, 
 no other than the world 
 which lives in me.
III. GNOMES OF THE NIGHT
In the light of the moon gently spraying 
 the blue tinted air with its gleam, 
 that blinds human eyes with its magic 
 and fires the heart with a dream; 
 when the whole world is shadowed with silence. 
 In the light of the moon of the night 
 when in dim-frosted light like a garment swoon, 
 the forest below the height; 
 when appears in the shadowy forest 
 a network of silvery white, 
 while shimmering there on the grasses 
 are circles and ringlets of light; 
 and when in the rays soft and filtered, 
 there gleam on the slope of the height 
 not jewels nor sapphires but droplets, yes, 
 myriads of droplets of light; 
 'tis then come the gnomes joyous trooping.
Descending the slope of the height; 
 as gently they come as the moonbeams, 
 like the dream of a child in the night. 
 And as they march on, they make tremble 
 the droplets of dew on the grass, 
 and bursting these crystals like droplets, cast 
 myriads of sparks as they pass. 
 Thus walking and singing, descending by sevens, 
 they march in the night 
 'till they come to the shadowy forest 
 that sleeps at the foot of the height. 
 Then all of them scatter with tumult 
 'neath bush and 'neath shadowy tree. 
 They come to a place where are hidden 
 the treasures that no light may see. 
 Then flickers the light pale and golden 
 on the black of the garments they wear. 
 Now it leaps on their hoods bright and shining 
 and is cast on the locks of their hair 
 and in the bright gleam of the moonlight
Their joy in laughter is told 
 with the pure ringing laughter of children, 
 They dance near their mine pit of gold. 
 The tinkle of coins and the sparkle 
 of gems that are strewn all around 
 soon mingle their light with the laughter; 
 the forest is stirred at the sound. 
 Thus the gold and the joy and the laughter, alas, 
 for this too must be gone! 
 Hurry, gnomes, for the dawn is approaching! 
 The rooster soon summons the dawn. 
 How quickly the gnome troop arises, 
 by sevens arrayed for their flight, 
 and sadly they march and in silence, 
 returning ascending the height. 
 And when the moon shamed hides its pallor 
 and wraps its pale face drained of light, 
 the gnomes march away to the shadows 
 and melt like a dream in the night.
Performers: Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields Chorus; Joseph Cullen, Conductor
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