We need smiles, laughter, joy, “more than ever,” as commercials frequently remind us.

We need to grieve, too. Shock and despair are constant companions, hovering at our elbows when we do smile.

What I see on television, what I read in the Times meets neither need. We get some information and lots of “takes” on the social and economic colllapse. Numbers. Nothing that prompts a smile nor acknowledges grief.

Soon we will all know someone who has died from this. And us?

In these messages I try to convey good cheer and to steer clear of sorrow. I’ve asked, “Who wants to hear gloomy music at a time like this?” I have assumed the answer would be, “Few, if any.”

Perhaps I have been wrong. Perhaps music that acknowledges the Tragic, that is sad but also beautiful, is at present, apt.

Perhaps we need both, the Comic and the Tragic.

This Wednesday I am going to share verbal, musical and visual hilarity. This Friday I will share some of the saddest yet most beautiful music I have written, never before shared in these email messages because of my perhaps foolish fear of veering toward gloom.

But today is Sunday, the Sabbath, and ‘the bounteous hand” of Spring is lavishing blessings upon us. It is raining! A delicious, nourishing April rain! As I write these words, thousands of “little silver feet are dancing delicately to the music of the wind three yards above my head” (quoting from The Cabin Down the Glen).

For now, expressions of humor and despair can wait. Let’s be thankful for “the blessings of the field.” Let’s listen to my setting, for men’s voices, of a poem thus titled. Here are the words, if you care to follow along.

For the Blessings of the Field by Anna Barbauld

For the blessings of the field,
for the stores our gardens yield,
flocks that whiten all the plain,
yellow sheaves of ripened grain:
Praise to God, immortal praise
for the Love that crowns our days!

All that Spring with bounteous hand
scatters o’er the smiling land,
all that golden Autumn pours
from her overwhelming stores:
Praise to God, immortal praise
for the Love that crowns our days!

These to Thee, our God, we owe,
Source from whom all blessings flow.
And for these our souls shall raise
grateful vows and solemn praise.
Praise to God, immortal praise
for the Love that crowns our days!

To hear the men of the Harvard University Choir singing "For the Blessings of the Field," click on the link above.

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above.