The Long Day Closes October 11, 2021

I was heavy into binge-watching on Wednesday night when Julie called me with the startling news that the music director of the Marin Oratorio had died of a heart attack that evening, just as he was preparing for rehearsal. We knew that Boyd had a few health issues, but we weren’t prepared for this. Boyd Jarrell was a man of energy and enthusiasm, generosity and kindness. We were all enriched by knowing him. 

In Chamber Singers, with Boyd at the music stand, I had learned The Long Day Closes by Arthur Sullivan. It is a beautiful and haunting elegy that I cannot sing without the sting of tears. And though we sing it for others, we are made aware of the finiteness of our own lives and how our own day will close soon enough. 

And so it is those words and that beautiful tune that have been consuming me this past week, as I reflect on Boyd and his legacy – the Oratorio and the deep friendships made because of it. 

No star is o'er the lake 

Its pale watch keeping 

The moon is half awake 

Through gray mist creeping 

The last red leaves fall round 

The porch of roses 

The clock hath ceased to sound 

The long day closes 

Sit by the silent hearth 

In calm endeavour 

To count the sounds of mirth 

Now dumb forever 

Heed not how hope believes 

And fate disposes: 

Shadow is round the eaves 

The long day closes 

The lighted windows dim 

Are fading slowly 

The fire that was so trim 

Now quivers lowly 

Go to the dreamless bed 

Where grief reposes; 

Thy book of toil is read 

The long day closes