Ride on, ride on in majesty


On one hand, I love the aesthetic power of this. On the other, I feel a degree of disgust that starched robes are singing of torture, blood, agony and a redemption which, beyond the song, may have little meaning for the participants.

Still, I will sing it tomorrow accompanied by my guitar – less aesthetically refined and perhaps more torturous.

But I’ll enjoy it – in a way.

4 thoughts on “Ride on, ride on in majesty

  1. I remember my youth at St Philip’s Choir in Montreal (1950′) when I could get those high notes. Now I sound like Brian Johnson with laryngitis.

  2. I know from experience that these are not the only Anglican choristers who are singing without any religious conviction. There is one such boy I happen to be acquainted with who thinks this is giving him the training to be a rock star, on the cheap. At the appropriate time, he plans to leave the robes far behind him.

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