There aren't that many settings of the text, and I've posted most of them in the past. So I wasn't quite sure where to go with this one, until I stumbled across Saturday Choral's latest post and was reminded of Arvo Pärt's setting of the final verse. (Interestingly, this is the only setting of an English text I can remember hearing from Pärt.)

Inspired by yesterday's strangely-coincident double-post, I'm sticking with the "Crucifixus" for a bit. Here's Montiverdi's setting.

After deciding on Antonio Lotti's searing "Crucifixus" for today's #LentInMusic selection, I realized that I'd actually posted it last year, and on a very similar day. Rather than taking this semi-synchronism as a sign that I needed to find something else, I took it as a sign that I should repost it. So here it is, and it's (still) wonderful.

No, I didn't pick today's "Iusti autem" motet because I find its composer's name (Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck) so bizarre and wonderful. But yes, that's exactly the sort of thing I would do. Interestingly, Sweelinck was significantly more influential as a teacher than as a composer, including so dramatically shaping a generation of German organists that he becamse known as "the maker of organists."

Henry Purcell's "Lord, How long wilt Thou be angry," featuring some of the most devastating dissonance ever written. (I detect definite strains of "Dido's Lament" in there.)

A Marian hymn seems appropriate for today, and this one -- "O thou joy of all the sorrowful," from Vasily Titov -- really fascinates me. Parts of it sound so very "17th Century Choral" to me, and parts of it sound so incredibly Russian.

Today, I'm posting Josquin des Prez's "O Domine Jesu Christe," because it's a Friday in Lent. Think of it as a sort of musical "Stations." Let it built, like all good des Prez.

I'm sharing another non-hashtagged piece today, which I don't really like doing. But The Sixteen and Harry Christophers performance was the only setting of Juan de Anchieta's "Con amores la mi madre" that I wanted to share. 

The highs were a bit brittle for me when I first listened. But after that initial reaction, I realized that they're the perfect counterpoint for the powerful, ground-shaking basses that close out each stanza. And those final moments are wonderfully powerful.

Here's the last "Bless the Lord, Oh My Soul" (for a bit, at least), and I'm closing the series out with this "anonymous" version. (I say anonymous because I'm not sure of the composer and the YouTube listing doesn't provide any clues.) But I really don't care who wrote it; it's gorgeous.