No. 1.2928 Zsimone| The Chase|SATB & Piano JUDITH LANG ZAIMONT The Chase for Mixed Chorus and PianoIn Gree mytholony a youn woman, Aten, was he site ranne ina or To one tetas ten ta the ony ator oh weep! one whe ca HT "foot race sel, pitting Atlante ais te lil. sed eotraee hl icin Airy no arrocting Alaa een re on onc acgpomene Pat 8 teat] MOP etal et ein el path Tae ova, ate Hoe ee 2 eles 6 spe rr one by one: Hippomenes wins ond ty are maid soa men, One nator, Hippomtenes, ain onl poem, however, te compose ade Id me A sels cr roe tear of hr Hippomenct as Pn oe eles at Ary apts make ta win and tM wb eon ee ‘he mare.nial | | i THE CHASE JUDITH LANG ZAIMONT ‘Over mountains, stormy forest desert Sown with nd ‘She leads me on, ying, lying ent with the wind ‘Aalanta, my golden gt vant you, 1 wn you with the apples in my hand Throw the fst oe, She oops it up: She caefly looks Tato shining face ‘And then she eontnaes on. ‘Ove vers, meadows green and sn, Feds perfumed wit fw, Tpursu,enteat, provoke, sole, implore, plead, ‘eying, ying to woo and win her With set words Ap tl she runs: Atlanta "The second apple Rolls to the ede, Ione graceful liquid tion She taker makes it hee ‘And rune aca, Holding wo, Hopeless, hopeless race. I's over; Finished Ve lost Weover. ‘Over seasons, years and hours, Minutes, spent, discarded Over roughened miles nforied Beneath, while my eyes ce [None of Nature's beats Save the one aed ‘last tne pray tothe gods Fer vtry 1 throw the thied apples Watches her eye And when se tse it up, Glance o'er her soulder at me ‘And he smiles And stops, wow I've wos, You've mine, Atlanta, my golden it {von you with ‘The apples in your hand ‘Golden 2ppes in your hand, AtalantaTHE CHASE ewce_ disse UOT LANG ZAMONT Cor 286 CMe Cr ASG eran re eed| jT|te one : head te oe * el . be ome + heago sin mo oie (479 ange “Base resi I-70