Invitation to Love

Paul Laurence Dunbar's lovely poem wins on at least two accounts: First, it expresses a universal yearning to be loved, to be visited by love, to be completed by love—no matter the time of year or the season of one's life. His petition is as gentle and honeyed as his imagery is inclusive: who hasn't seen a starry night, a tree in bloom, or been weighed down by a heart full of grief? He writes to and from our most basic, shared, human experience. Second—from a musical perspective—Dunbar, knowingly or not, makes life easy for us composers. The word “come” centers itself in an elegant, singable vowel, like a meditative “ohm,” that can be stretched and colored endlessly. As that “ohm” repeats (many times) throughout the piece, I hear it like a reassuring wave at the ocean's edge or pulse in my own heart. Further, the text—a series of couplets with end-rhymes—sits naturally in a larger, three-stanza form: please come; you are sweet; please, please come. This becomes a musical form, then,