Every Easter week I'm struck again by this Alleluia: The Lord's Angel came down from heaven, and rolled the stone away, and sat on it.
It seems a clearer expression of the defeat of Death could not be made: Death’s own sign and seal -- a rock covering a hole -- is just rolled away, and now it's just a seat to sit on.
And the melody! how in clear light and a scale of subpuncta the Angel descends; how easily -- almost like a child’s game -- the stone is rolled on a descending sequence of torculi; how firmly, resting on the repeated finalis, the Angel sits: Alleluia, Alleluia
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