While Heaven Wept's lyrics have traditionally dealt with sorrowful matters, namely, personal loss and despondency.
Epistle No.81
While Heaven Wept Lyrics
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One small darkness encloses
How gold and purple that shovel there
To rags and rubbish disposes
Charon beckons from tumultuous waves
Then trice this ancient digger of graves
For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister
A gravestone over our sister
Even desirous and modest abode
Under the sighing branches
Where time and death, a marriage forebode
Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes
To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way
Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray
Flitteth amid these barrows
E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day
Piously breaketh her arrow
The little bell echoes the great bells groan
Robed in the door the precentor
Noisome with quirsters prayerful moan
Blesses those who enter
The way to this templed city of tombs
Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms
Fragments of mouldering biers
Till black-clad each mourner his station assumes
Bows there deeply in tears
The song Epistle No. 81 by While Heaven Wept is a somber and introspective reflection on death and the fleeting nature of life. The opening lines "Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits, mon frere / One small darkness encloses" suggest that the singer is observing the passing of a loved one and recognizing their own mortality. The reference to "gold and purple that shovel there / To rags and rubbish disposes" implies that regardless of one's status or wealth, death is the great equalizer that reduces all to the same level.
The singer then invokes the image of Charon, the ferryman who transported souls across the River Styx in Greek mythology. They ask for help in raising "a gravestone over our sister", indicating that they are paying tribute to someone who has passed away. The description of "beauty and ugliness ashes" suggests that even in death, there is a certain beauty that can be found in the cycle of life and decay. The singer reassures their friend, Movits, that this place of burial is one where "jealousy findeth her way / Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray", and that even enmity "piously breaketh her arrow" in the presence of death.
The final stanzas describe a funeral procession at a templed city of tombs. The bells toll as the precentor blesses those who enter, and mourners bow in tears. The description of "fragments of mouldering biers" and climbing amid "roses yellowing blooms" paints a vivid and melancholic picture of decay and the passage of time. The overall message of the song seems to be a reflection on the impermanence of life and the importance of cherishing the time we have.
Line by Line Meaning
Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits, mon frere
Take note of how our shadow and reflection, Mark Movits, my brother,
One small darkness encloses
Is surrounded by a small space of darkness
How gold and purple that shovel there
Notice the beauty in the gold and purple of that shovel there
To rags and rubbish disposes
Even though it will be used to dispose of rags and rubbish
Charon beckons from tumultuous waves
Charon, the mythological ferryman, is calling from the chaotic waves
Then trice this ancient digger of graves
So let's hurry and call this old grave digger
For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister
Because you will never again shine like a grape in the sun
Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise
That's why I need your help, Mark, to raise
A gravestone over our sister
A gravestone over our sister's resting place
Even desirous and modest abode
Even though it is a desirable yet simple dwelling place
Under the sighing branches
Under the branches that seem to be sighing
Where time and death, a marriage forebode
Where time and death predict a future union
Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes
Between the ashes of both beauty and ugliness
To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way
Jealousy will never find its way to you
Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray
And neither will the quick-to-stray steps of happiness
Flitteth amid these barrows
Because they are surrounded by graves
E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day
Even when hostility, as you see today, is armed and present
Piously breaketh her arrow
She will still break her arrow in reverence
The little bell echoes the great bells groan
Even though the little bell echoes the sound of the large bells grieving
Robed in the door the precentor
The precentor is standing at the door wearing a robe
Noisome with quirsters prayerful moan
The room is filled with the stench of the choir's mournful prayers
Blesses those who enter
Blessing those who come in
The way to this templed city of tombs
The path to this city of tombs
Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms
Winds its way through roses whose blooms are turning yellow
Fragments of mouldering biers
Fragments of decaying coffins
Till black-clad each mourner his station assumes
Until each mourner dressed in black takes their place
Bows there deeply in tears
And deeply bows, shedding tears
Contributed by Adeline P. Suggest a correction in the comments below.