Only you, great God, perfectly blend the instruments, mix their signals, in symphonic accord. In time, and volume, the good instruments dance when your baton sweeps through the air,
when you say…
You cymbals, make a clash, rouse and pique, lead the way!
O you horns, why are you afraid? Blast forth, do not abate; your necks were made long, your mouths wide, let loose and resound, your time is now!
Beat O drums, join in just now, the song is sure, the rhythm secured, your time is at hand!
Go stringed ones, your time has come, soothe and caress, slowly, and softly, let your glad sound be heard!
Now, you pipes, send forth your notes, meld and bind, do it well, you are the glue!
All the good instruments watch you, each trusts your score, each knows its cue, each plays its part. Time and volume are in your baton, you are the great Conductor.