Landfall in Unknown Seas

DOUGLAS LILBURN
Landfall in Unknown Seas
PROMETHEAN EDITIONS

DOUGLAS LILBURN
Landfall in Unknown Seas
Study Score
PROMETHEAN EDITIONS
WELLINGTON

Landfall in Unknown Seas (PEL27S) by Douglas Lilburn (1942)
Landfall in Unknown Seas (1942)
Composed by Douglas Lilburn
© Alexander Turnbull Library Endowment Trust
Under exclusive licence to Songbroker Limited
The copyright of the front matter essays are owned by the authors as named.
Permission to reproduce the poem Landfall in Unknown Seas by Allen Curnow from his
Collected Poems, Auckland University Press 2017 courtesy of the copyright owner Tim
Curnow, Sydney.
Published by Promethean Editions Limited
First edition © 2021 Promethean Editions Limited
Publisher: Ross Hendy
Series Editor: Robert Hoskins
Music Editors: Ben Woods and Moss Lee
Associate Editor: Rod Biss
ISBN 978-1-877564-42-0 (print)
ISBN 978-1-77660-547-7 (ebook)
ISMN 979-0-67452-320-2
Promethean Editions Limited
PO Box 10-143
Wellington
NEW ZEALAND
https://www.prometheaneditions.com
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by
any means without permission in writing from the Publisher.
Promethean Editions would like to thank the Lilburn Trust
for a donation made toward the publication of this volume.

DOUGLAS LILBURN
Landfall in Unknown Seas
INTRODUCTION
Douglas Lilburn Biography ....................................... iv
Landfall in Unknown Seas: Lilburn’s music .......... v
Landfall in Unknown Seas: Curnow’s poem ...... ix
Publisher’s note ............................................................. x
Performance note ........................................................ xi
Poem ................................................................................. xi
Editorial notes ............................................................. xiii
MUSIC
Landfall in Unknown Seas (1942) ............................1
PEL27S – iii

INTRODUCTION
Douglas Lilburn occupies a pre-eminent position in New Zealand music, with a legacy
extending well beyond his compositional output. As a composer, teacher and mentor he
presided in innumerable ways over the artistic growth of New Zealand from 1940 onwards.
From the early works redolent of the influence of Sibelius and Vaughan Williams, to the
electro-acoustic pieces of his later years, his works have been instrumental in establishing
a genuinely vernacular voice in New Zealand classical music.
Our collection of Lilburn’s publications draws on the expertise of Dr Robert Hoskins, formerly
an Associate Professor at the New Zealand School of Music, and Rod Biss, who as
Production Director of Faber Music and then Price Milburn Music, was instrumental in
publishing Lilburn’s music in the 1970s. The editors, previous collaborators on the Douglas
Lilburn Complete Piano Edition, have carefully considered and clarified Lilburn’s manuscripts
and early publications in preparing these volumes as both scholarly and practical
editions for performance, and are presented with the exacting and elegant house style of
Promethean Editions.
BIOGRAPHY
Douglas Lilburn (1915–2001) grew up on ‘Drysdale’, a hill-country farm bordering the mountainous
region at the centre of New Zealand’s North Island. He often described his boyhood
home as ‘paradise’ and his first major orchestral work, Drysdale Overture (1937), written
while a student under the aegis of Ralph Vaughan Williams at the Royal College of Music in
London, conjures up the hills, bush and stream as primal sites of imaginative wonder. In
this same period Lilburn wrote his Festival Overture (1939) and Overture: Aotearoa (1940),
together with a choral work, Prodigal Country (1939), which expresses feelings of exile and
his response to rumours of war. Although these works were written in his student years,
their content, style and general confidence reveal Lilburn as an achieved artist.
Returning to Christchurch, Lilburn banded together with an innovative group of painters,
poets and publishers who were to prove influential. Settings of Allen Curnow and Denis
Glover, for instance, resulted in two iconic works: Landfall in Unknown Seas (1942), a voyage
of spiritual discovery for narrator and string orchestra, and the song cycle Sings Harry
(1953/1954), the musings of a middle-aged bachelor who, returning to the mountains where
he grew up, begins to reassess and evaluate the course his life has taken. Two more works,
an orchestral tone poem A Song of Islands (1946) and the Chaconne (1946) for piano, find
their parallel in the regional paintings of Rita Angus.
In 1947 Lilburn joined the staff at Victoria University College in Wellington and completed
several works that received high critical acclaim, including two symphonies, two piano
sonatas, and the Alistair Campbell song cycle Elegy (1951) — a vision of the titanic indifference
of nature. Lilburn composed Symphony No.3 (1961), along with Sonatina No.2 (1962)
and Nine Short Pieces for Piano (1965–66), in response to a stimulating period of sabbatical
leave. Masterpieces of concentrated form, these works explore the boundaries of his instru-
PEL27S – iv

mental writing. From this point until his retirement, Lilburn chose to take on the new territory
of electro-acoustic composition.
Lilburn’s final years were spent quietly at home in Thorndon, Wellington, tending to his garden
and, until the onset of arthritis, playing his beloved August Förster piano. He received
the Order of New Zealand in 1988.
LANDFALL IN UNKNOWN SEAS: LILBURN’S MUSIC
A new oceanic spirit surges through Douglas Lilburn’s music for Allen Curnow’s Landfall in
Unknown Seas (1942), commissioned to celebrate the tercentenary of Abel Tasman’s sighting
of New Zealand. From the compulsive unfurling of the opening movement, the choppiness
of the second, the curvaceous swell of the third and the upward cresting of the fourth, we
experience, in combination with Curnow’s incantatory verse, a life-affirming endeavour.
This was especially so for New Zealand wartime audiences hearing this work: it was everything
that was needed, when everything was needed. Lilburn understood that, in poetry,
lost elegance means lost significance. His task was to provide music for Curnow’s poem that
was a pleasure to the ear, and thus a tonic to the heart, but also struck the mind. As Curnow
later said, ‘I tend to think of the music first and then the poem. I can’t easily think of the
two separately.’ 1
When Lilburn returned to Christchurch, New Zealand, in 1942, after studying under Ralph
Vaughan Williams at the Royal College of Music in London, he was in what was then the arts
centre of New Zealand. Here, in the company of poets and painters, he was determined to
be a freelance composer. If Landfall in Unknown Seas expressed the composer’s conscious
homecoming, while invoking a spiritual voyage of discovery, other pieces presented a challenging
aesthetic manifesto. There was, for example, Elegy, a song cycle on humanity in
nature, and the First Symphony, opening with a clarion call of independence to all New
Zealanders. Speaking to the Listener about his tone poem Antipodes, later retitled A Song of
Islands, Lilburn described his intentions in this music:
Composers in a new country, having no established tradition to guide them, must seek
out their own paths as best they may. History and environment may help to establish a
background. The word Antipodes was chosen here for its richness of association in these
things. To the early voyager it meant strangeness and remoteness, unchartered seas
and the unknown South land, and even today a New Zealander may share something of
these feelings towards parts of his country. When he moves out of the cities he is apt to be
confronted by distance and solitude, or the mountains leap suddenly on his horizons,
and he is never far from the sound of the great oceans that beat upon his coasts. 2
Lilburn and Curnow met in the mid-1930s when Lilburn was a first year undergraduate at
Canterbury College and Curnow, four years his senior, was reporting for the Press. They
1 Allen Curnow to MacDonald Jackson, ‘Conversation with Allen Curnow’, in Peter Simpson (ed.), Allen Curnow, Look
Back Harder: Critical Writings 1935–1984 (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1987), p.251. Rod Biss, a former student
of Lilburn and later his publisher, recalled the composer telling him that he felt the Curnow words were too significant
in their own right to be set to music and must be left as they were. Rod Biss, pers. comm.
2 New Zealand Listener, 15 August 1947, p.6.
PEL27S – v

ecame friends, sharing a vision of speaking about and for New Zealand and creating work
regarding their country that remained untainted by self-conscious nationalism. 3 ‘I believe
that what we write IS New Zealand,’ said Curnow, ‘but I am always looking for some view
that by-passes the nationalist idea.’ 4 As Lilburn wrote to Curnow in the mid-1960s:
[W]hen we both began … it was some personal attempt to come to terms with some
vast, new, exhilarating human context, that feeling of discovery which ran through
our myth-making then. And all begun a quarter-century ago under those apocalyptic
Canterbury skies, on those timeless hills, in that human-size town with its river, in that
youthful human web…. I think I’ve never quite been whole since then, or never taken
wholeness for granted & reasonable to expect as I did then. Necessary? Of course, & you
know it too. It was valid but cosy. And we become larger since then, but in a bitter, or
ironic, or more fragmented way. 5
The sea swell of Lilburn’s music gravitates to the shore of Tasman’s anchorage at the end
of the second movement. The Dutch explorer, navigating the Southwest Pacific, sights the
west coast of the South Island and finally enters Golden Bay, where a hostile encounter with
Māori ends with lives lost; Tasman sails away and does not moor again in New Zealand. 6
The real secret of Landfall in Unknown Seas, though, takes place musically in the third movement,
an elegiac hymn that drifts from low strings to a transitory, electrically charged dissonance
— ‘A clash of boats in the bay/And the day marred with murder’ — before a varied
repetition that becomes weightless with the upward waft of the violins. The major demands
of Curnow’s poem come with the invitation, towards the end, to embrace ‘a more faithful
memory’ that is charged with the task of interpreting ‘The stain of blood that writes an
island story’. Lilburn’s anthem-like finale, with its upward scalic thrusts, suggests the ‘discoverer’s
elation’ that arises from the revelation of a strange new world: he is advocating
the affirmative co-existence of the new and the familiar.
As Curnow recalled in 1974, he wrote Landfall in Unknown Seas during 1942 and ‘before
the year ended, Douglas Lilburn had composed the music for strings which so splendidly
complements and illuminates the verse’. As he explained, John Beaglehole, working for
the Historical Branch of the Department of Internal Affairs, had asked for a poem about
Tasman’s voyage, to be part of a commemorative volume entitled Abel Janszoon Tasman and
the Discovery of New Zealand.
3 Apart from setting Curnow’s ‘New Zealand City’ in his full-length choral work Prodigal Country (1939), Lilburn
did not set Curnow vocally; his Three Poems of the Sea (1951) for string orchestra with narrator includes Curnow’s ‘A
Changeling’ (from ‘Evidences of a Recent Flood’).
4 Allen Curnow to Monty Holcroft, 31 July 1942. M. H. Holcroft Papers, MS-Papers-1186-05, Alexander Turnbull Library.
In 1940 Curnow described ‘nationality’, in a letter to Douglas Lilburn dated 15 August, as ‘the most destructive, most
enslaving idea in history’. Douglas Lilburn Papers, MS-Papers-7623-127, Alexander Turnbull Library.
5 Douglas Lilburn to Allen Curnow, 26 October 1965. Allen Curnow Papers, MS-Papers-2402-63, Alexander Turnbull
Library.
6 ‘A large land lifted high’ with ‘the wide, open sea rolling towards it’ was Tasman’s first impression of the coastline
and landing was deemed unsafe until he entered Wharewharangi Bay at sunset on 18 December 1642. Māori signalled
on a pūtātara, a conch shell used as a war trumpet, according to ethnomusicologist Richard Nunns, to which a sailor
responded on a trumpet; the exchange delivered mixed messages. Next morning, Māori double canoes approached the
ships and Tasman sent forward a small boat; it was rammed and three sailors were killed. Dutch guns fired, killing a
Māori. A general account of events is given in Christine Thompson, Sea People: The Puzzle of Polynesia (London: William
Collins, 2019), pp.53–58. See also Richard Nunns and Allan Thomas, ‘A first encounter in New Zealand’, in Wendy
Pond and Paul Wolfram (eds), World music is where we found it: essays by and for Allan Thomas (Wellington: Victoria
University Press, 2011), pp.173–183.
PEL27S – vi

When I had finished, I showed the poem to Lilburn, then living in an old brick apartment
block on the site now occupied by the Christchurch Town Hall. I would have called, as I
so often did, on my way to work at The Press. I hoped it would strike him as a subject for
music. By great good fortune it did, though part of the fortune was (I am glad to think)
that we knew each other’s minds so well; no one would have been quicker to perceive it,
than Lilburn, if the poem and his music could not agree.
After an ‘immediate response’ from both Beaglehole and Internal Affairs head Joseph
Heenan, Lilburn completed the music, 7 and the first performance took place in Wellington
on 13 December 1942, ‘three hundred years to the day after Tasman first sighted New
Zealand. I have not counted the many performances since: at least one for each of the thirty
years including three in 1973.’ 8
The premiere was a Sunday afternoon broadcast performance on the YA network with the
National Broadcasting Service String Orchestra conducted by Andersen Tyrer; A. Eaton
Hurley, a Wellington lawyer and later ombudsman, recited the poem. As Curnow told Denis
Glover, on war service in the Royal Navy, early in 1943:
Hurley … read the Tasman poem … far better than I feared, but badly none the less. He
obliterated line-endings & mistook rhythms, & used one word that wasn’t in the text at
all. But a fine serious man…. Of the music, I believe Lilburn surpassed himself; both in
its own right and as a heightening setting for the poem, his music is superb. It doesn’t,
of course, strictly ‘accompany’ the reading. It is: music, then first part of poem; music,
second part; music, third part; and then a finale. 9
Antony Alpers writing as ‘Marsyas’ in the New Zealand Listener, understood that Landfall
was itself an adventure:
The effect of the two works combined was most impressive — the music provided
inescapable atmosphere for a poem which had something to say.
The first of the four pieces — which are written for strings — had the adventurous feeling
common to most of Mr Lilburn’s music; and for providing incidental commentary on a
poem commemorating Abel Tasman’s discovery of New Zealand, nothing could be more
appropriate than music which is itself an adventure of discovery.
The second piece is full of vivid excitement, of the Sibelian variety. The third, coming
just after that section of the poem which is related to the Golden Bay affray — ‘the day
marred with murder’ — has an awesome opening. The composer who, by dealing in the
movement of sounds, can create a stilled hush has achieved one of those inscrutable
contradictions that distinguish good music from bad. The music which fulfilled the most
7 From the evidence of the pencil score, fMS-Papers-2483-042, Alexander Turnbull Library, Lilburn seems to have
quickly settled on the basic material and caught the spirit of each movement as he wanted it to be.
8 Prefatory note to Collected Poems 1933–1973, A. H. & A. W. Reed, Wellington, 1974; reprinted in Elizabeth Caffin and
Terry Sturm (eds), Allen Curnow: Collected Poems (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2017), pp.360–61. For a full
account of the genesis of the poem, see Linda Cassells (ed.), Terry Sturm, Allen Curnow: Simply by Sailing in a New
Direction (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2017) pp.173–80.
9 Allen Curnow to Denis Glover, 2 December 1943. Denis Glover Papers, MS-Papers-0418-008, Alexander Turnbull
Library. A correspondent to the New Zealand Listener, 31 December 1942, complained that Hurley ‘“elocuted” to such
purpose that I did not catch one sentence. The senseless rise and fall of the voice robbed the words of all meaning.’
PEL27S – vii

dramatic point in this two-man work was almost as beautiful as silence itself.
Alpers’ single qualm was that the finale ‘didn’t at any stage feel as if it got properly under
way’ but he claims the work as ‘an important event in the story of our arts’. 10
The first concert performance, devoted entirely to works by Lilburn, took place in
Christchurch at the Canterbury College Hall on 29 September 1943. Curnow recited the
poem and the strings of the 3YA Studio Orchestra, led by Vivien Dixon, was conducted
by the composer; this was the only time Curnow and Lilburn shared the stage. 11 F. J. P.
(Frederick Page) in the Press, who considered the occasion as ‘the first of its kind to be given
in New Zealand’, wrote that ‘the whole work rings true’ and words and music ‘fitted happily
together’. Yet he wished ‘that the poet had had the last word, or perhaps that the music had
rounded off the affair more briefly.’ 12
Bob Gormack, future editor, publisher and printer, ruefully noted in his diary on the night
of the concert that ‘Musician Lilburn’s big evening’ was ‘a success for him of some magnitude’
but he felt that ‘there was something lacking in the music — something lacking of
imaginative sparkle or lyrical inspiration — just as there was certainly something lacking in
Curnow’s poem. The music was better than the poem — much better; there was an emotional
integrity in the former which I could at least respect.’ 13
Alpers had an entirely different view. ‘What spontaneous inspiration could produce anything
more fresh and adventurous than the bold tune that opens the piece?’ he asked in
his Listener review, ‘Mr Lilburn’s way of saying “On a fine morning, the best time of year.”’
And the tentative mood of the second, with its moments of tremulous excitement,
suggests that the composer got the poetry of Tasman’s adventure right into his blood
and then put down its music as if he himself had been among those first ones who saw
‘Peak and pillar of cloud — O splendour of desolation’. I have the same feeling about
the awestruck hush of the third, which dwells on the horror of the ‘clash of boats in the
bay’. But the last piece still seems (as it did at the first hearing last December), to leave
something undone…. I suspect it is more than merely the rhythmic aspect that keeps
checking the course of this finale…. and I have yet to hear a finale by Douglas Lilburn
that sings of what has gone before as his overtures and allegros do of what is to come. 14
The ‘finale’ doubts raised by both Alpers and Page were later taken up by Alex Lindsay,
whose string orchestra included Landfall in Unknown Seas, with Curnow as narrator, in a
subscription concert at the Wellington Town Hall on 27 March 1954. 15 ‘I once tried to persuade
him to rewrite the last movement of Landfall. He at least considered it, but eventually
said no, “I can’t do it and that’s that.” I had thought it sounded inconclusive. “Well, that’s
10 New Zealand Listener, 31 December 1942.
11 See also Philip Norman, Douglas Lilburn: His Life and Music (Christchurch: Canterbury University Press, 2006),
pp. 104–108. String orchestras were the mainstay for orchestral music in New Zealand during the war years.
12 Press, 30 September 1943.
13 R. S. Gormack, Diary for 1942–3 (Christchurch: Nag’s Head Press, 1991), pp.57–58.
14 New Zealand Listener, 15 October 1943.
15 In 1960 the work was recorded for commercial release on Kiwi Pacific LD-2 with the Alex Lindsay String Orchestra
and Allen Curnow; it has since been recorded in 1995 on Koch 3-7260-2H1 with the New Zealand Chamber Orchestra
and Sir Edmund Hillary. Radio New Zealand archive holds a 1972 recording with John Ritchie conducting the NZBCSO
strings and Bruce Mason narrating.
PEL27S – viii

how it’s supposed to sound,” he said. “The poem’s inconclusive. It leaves a question in the
mind.”’ It was a well-judged reply.
But Curnow should have the last word. In a letter to Lilburn after listening to a radio broadcast
of the concert on the 2YC network programme on 28 April, he wrote:
The music thrilled me as never before; all the distances, colours, & enlargings of what
the poem says. And the design from beginning to end, so clear & purposeful — doing
everything for the poem that it can’t do for itself, but nothing that the poem doesn’t
mean to do with all its heart. Music of what WBY [William Butler Yeats] might have
called the ‘passionate serving kind’ — thinking of men, not music, but meaning the kind
of thought greatest in art. I can hardly think of the poem except as a first stage in the
creation of ‘Landfall in Unknown Seas’ now that it has been performed — I’m in a fix.
I can’t help but praise my own share! — as it deserves to be. — But the music made a
reader of me. I listened with one self-doubting ear cocked for the falsities I always catch
when I hear myself played back, but soon found myself deep in both words & music, as if
someone else were speaking. — And didn’t they play it well! There was ‘heroic eloquence’
in every passage of the music, conviction, life, whatever word will nearly express it; the
thing that leaves the instruments & utters itself — or else.... Now I think I understand
the work, which I thought so long I did understand. I had sometimes thought the poem
belonged to some ‘phase’ of my own. What egotism! 16
Robert Hoskins, Palmerston North, 2021
LANDFALL IN UNKNOWN SEAS: CURNOW’S POEM
Simply by sailing in a new direction
You could enlarge the world.
Here was a plan for anyone working in the arts in 1942. Artists were questioning all the traditions
that had preceded them, constantly reinventing themselves, especially in the face
of a Western civilisation that had been battered by the Great War, a worldwide depression
and then the Second World War, still raging at the time that Curnow was writing. He and
his fellow artists were facing
… an older enmity
Lodged in the searching mind, that would not tolerate
So huge a hegemony of ignorance.
Bereft of the assurances of the past, artists were cast into ‘the nameless waters of the world’.
Like Tasman, in unknown seas, they could only give the islands of their creation to ‘new
hazardous tomorrows’.
The new creation comes in the second part of the poem with the exhilaration of finding
land — a horizon ‘Crammed with coast’. Both sailor and artist stand transfixed
16 Allen Curnow to Douglas Lilburn, 1 May 1953 [error for 1954]. Douglas Lilburn Papers, MS-Papers-7623-128,
Alexander Turnbull Library. Curnow refers to Yeats’s poem ‘To a Shade’ (1913).
PEL27S – ix

Watching the earth take shape
Round the unearthly summits, brighter
Than its emerging colour.
This is not the static, earthly paradise they may have dreamed of reaching, with ‘glittering
gulfs ascending/Past palaces’. It is far more impenetrable, elemental and powerful. It has
the volcanic power of the God of Exodus as it rises up beneath a ‘pillar of cloud’, ominous
‘With a shadow, a finger of wind’ that forbids ‘Hopes of a happy landing’. Like Tasman’s first
view of New Zealand, a desolate place with ‘land uplifted high’, where threatening weather
prevented a landing, the source of creation is vast and impenetrable. We can skirt around
it, but attempts to land are at our peril. And Tasman’s attempt leads directly to bloodshed.
Penetrating the impenetrable comes at a price. For most there is the ‘Warning to keep their
distance’.
In the third part of the poem, Tasman’s exploration has been reduced to ‘a chapter/In a
schoolbook’. By the mid-twentieth century ‘there are no more islands to be found’ but
despite this sense of civilised completion, the artist’s ‘eye scans risky horizons of its own’.
The peak of human achievement has not been reached. The weather is ‘unsettled’ and the
‘murmurs of the drowned/Haunt their familiar beaches’.
‘Merit that congratulates itself’ has no legitimate place here, despite speeches, medals and
‘self-important celebration’. Curnow asks, ‘Who reaches/A future down for us from the high
shelf/Of spiritual daring?’ Remembering, celebrating, recording the past is not the path:
this only comes only through a real memory, awareness, inclusion of what took place. The
watchful sailor scans the horizon for something truer. In his quest, his glory is only ‘diffident’
because finding landfall in impenetrably lonely seas leaves nothing but ‘The stain
of blood’ to mark his passage. Despite this, though, there is the ‘faithful memory’ that this
voyage is worth it.
Dougal Fraser, Hamilton, 2021
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The Publisher gratefully acknowledges the assistance from Michael Brown and Keith
McEwing of the Alexander Turnbull Library, Rod Biss, Dr Robert Hoskins, Dougal Fraser,
Anna Rogers, Philip Norman, Tim Curnow and the Allen Curnow Estate, Alistair Gilkison,
and the Lilburn Trust for its generous donation towards the publication of this edition.
PEL27S – x

PERFORMANCE NOTE
The first section of Curnow’s poem (‘Simply by sailing in a new direction’) is read at the
close of the first movement of Lilburn’s music, the second section (‘Suddenly exhilaration’)
follows the second movement, and the third section (‘Well, home is the Sailor’) follows the
third movement.
Allen Curnow, Landfall in Unknown Seas
I
Simply by sailing in a new direction
You could enlarge the world.
You picked your captain,
Keen on discoveries, tough enough to make them,
Whatever vessels could be spared from other
More urgent service for a year’s adventure;
Took stock of the more probable conjectures
About the Unknown to be traversed, all
Guesses at golden coasts and tales of monsters
To be digested into plain instructions
For likely and unlikely situations.
All this resolved and done, you launched the whole
On a fine morning, the best time of year,
Skies widening and the oceanic furies
Subdued by summer illumination; time
To go and to be gazed at going
On a fine morning, in the Name of God
Into the nameless waters of the world.
O you had estimated all the chances
Of business in those waters, the world’s waters
Yet unexploited.
But more than the sea-empire’s
Cannon, the dogs of bronze and iron barking
From Timor to the Straits, backed up the challenge.
Between you and the South an older enmity
Lodged in the searching mind, that would not tolerate
So huge a hegemony of ignorance.
There, where your Indies had already sprinkled
Their tribes like ocean rains, you aimed your voyage;
Like them invoked your God, gave seas to history
And islands to new hazardous tomorrows.
PEL27S – xi

II
Suddenly exhilaration
Went off like a gun, the whole
Horizon, the long chase done,
Hove to. There was the seascape
Crammed with coast, surprising
As new lands will, the sailor
Moving on the face of the waters,
Watching the earth take shape
Round the unearthly summits, brighter
Than its emerging colour.
Yet this, no far fool’s errand,
Was less than the heart desired,
In its old Indian dream
The glittering gulfs ascending
Past palaces and mountains
Making one architecture.
Here the uplifted structure,
Peak and pillar of cloud —
O splendour of desolation — reared
Tall from the pit of the swell,
With a shadow, a finger of wind, forbade
Hopes of a lucky landing.
Always to islanders danger
Is what comes over the sea;
Over the yellow sands and the clear
Shallows, the dull filament
Flickers, the blood of strangers:
Death discovered the Sailor
O in a flash, in a flat calm,
A clash of boats in the bay
And the day marred with murder.
The dead required no further
Warning to keep their distance;
The rest, noting the failure,
Pushed on with a reconnaissance
To the north; and sailed away.
III
Well, home is the Sailor, and that is a chapter
In a schoolbook, a relevant yesterday
We thought we knew all about, being much apter
To profit, sure of our ground,
No murderers mooring in our Golden Bay.
PEL27S – xii

But now there are no more islands to be found
And the eye scans risky horizons of its own
In unsettled weather, and murmurs of the drowned
Haunt their familiar beaches —
Who navigates us toward what unknown
But not improbable provinces? Who reaches
A future down for us from the high shelf
Of spiritual daring? Not those speeches
Pinning on the Past like a decoration
For merit that congratulates itself,
O not the self-important celebration
Or most painstaking history, can release
The current of a discoverer’s elation
And silence the voices saying,
‘Here is the world’s end where wonders cease’.
Only by a more faithful memory, laying
On him the half-light of a diffident glory,
The Sailor lives, and stands beside us, paying
Out into our time’s wave
The stain of blood that writes an island story.
EDITORIAL NOTES
The copy-text for this edition is the ink holograph score, fMS-Papers-2483-040, Alexander
Turnbull Library, with reference to the Waiteata Music Press edition (2000), published with
Lilburn’s editorial approval, and a set of autograph orchestral parts, MS-Papers-11920-09.
Evidence from the extant manuscripts shows slight cuts in the final movement: measures 1–2
and measures 103–104 were originally repeated and seven measures were deleted (propulsive
rhythms followed by a scalic rise in first violins) following measure 62.
The Waiteata Music Press edition contains a number of bowing indications which were presumably
added by the conductor Andersen Tyrer. Although Lilburn approved these marks,
we have decided not to include them in this edition except for those in the composer’s hand
which are essential to the interpretation.
In the first movement Lilburn makes much use of a pattern that one first sees in Violins I and
II at measure 17. Lilburn simply marks the three crotchets of this measure “stacc.”. We have
not added staccato dots or repeated the instruction at every appearance as we believe the
composer assumed that performers would understand how this pattern should be played
wherever it appeared.
PEL27S – xiii

PEL27S – xiv
The first page of the composer’s manuscript of Landfall in Unknown Seas.
(Reproduced by permission of the Alexander Turnbull Library, Douglas Gordon Lilburn Papers fMS-Papers-2483-040)

LANDFALL Landfall in IN Unknown UNKNOWN Seas SEAS (1942)
Douglas Lilburn
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Violoncello
Double Bass
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
Moderato h = c.108
2
2
2
2
2
w
f
˙
f
w
f
w
f
w
f
œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙
. ˙
w
w
œ
œ œ œ œ
œ
. ˙
˙
w
w
w
œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
˙
w
w
w
œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙
w
˙
˙
œ
œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
˙.
˙
w
w
w
œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙ ˙
˙ œ œ œ œ
˙ œ œ œ
w
w
8
#
&
. ˙
Œ
w
˙.
œ
. ˙
œ œ
œ œ ˙
˙.
œ
˙.
œ œ
œ œ œ œ ‰. r œ
#
&
B #
œ œ œ .
œ . œ . œ. œ . œ .
œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ . ˙
w
œ œ
w
œ ‰ . r
œ
? #
˙
˙
w
w
w
w
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
? #
˙
˙
w
w
w
w
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
#
&
16
#
&
B #
? #
? #
. ˙
˙.
œ Œ Ó
˙.
˙.
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
p stacc.
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
p stacc.
˙
p
˙
∑
∑
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
œ œ œ ‰. œ
r
p stacc.
∑
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
˙
. ˙
˙
∑
Œ
Landfall in Unknown Seas © Alexander Turnbull Library Endowment Trust
This edition © 2021 Promethean Editions Limited PEL27S – 1
ISMN: 979-0-67452-320-2
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
œ
> > œ > œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
p
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . œ R
mf
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . œ R
mf
˙ ˙
mf
∑
∑
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
œ œ œ
‰ . R œ
mf
∑
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . R œ
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . R œ
˙
˙.
cresc.
cresc.
cresc.
œ ‰ . R œ
∑
Œ

24
# œ ˙ œ œ
&
# œ ˙ œ œ
&
B # œ ˙ œ œ
? # œ
> œ> ˙>
f
? # œ œ ˙
f
œ ˙
f
œ ˙
f
œ ˙
f
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
œ . ˙
œ ˙.
œ ˙.
œ ˙.
œ
w
mp
# ˙ œ œ œ œ
mp
w
mp
w
mp
w
mp
# ˙. œ
˙
. ˙
w
œ Œ Ó
œ œ œ#
œ
œ
. ˙
# œ œ
# ˙ œ œ œ œ
w
w
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
# ˙ œ œ œ œ
w
# ˙. # œ
˙
w
˙
# œ œ œ œ
# ˙
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
33
˙.
˙
#w
w
# œ#
œ
# œ œ œ œ
# ˙ ˙
˙
˙
#w
# œ œ œ œ
# œ œ#
œ
. ˙
Œ
œ œ œ .
œ . œ# œ œ œ
# œ œ œ . œ. œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
#w
mf
˙
mf
˙
mf
w
mf
œ œ œ#
œ
# œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙
˙
w
œ
œ œ œ#
œ
œ# œ œ œ
. ˙
œ œ
# ˙ œ œ œ#
œ
˙
w
# œ œ œ œ
# œ ˙
˙
#˙
Œ
# œ . # œ. œ . œ .
# ˙ œ . œ . # œ. œ .
# ˙. Œ
? #
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
40
#w
p
# ˙ œ œ œ œ
p
˙ # œ œ œ œ
p
# ˙. œ
p
˙.
œ œ œ# œ ˙
œ# œ œ œ ˙
w
œ œ
w
œ œ ˙
œ # œ ˙
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
Ó
Ó
Ó
œ œ œ ‰. r
œ
p stacc.
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
p stacc.
œ .
œ .
n˙
p
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
œ œ œ ‰. r
œ
p stacc.
œ œ œ ‰. r
œ
œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
˙
. ˙
˙
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
œ
> œ> œ>
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
p
PEL27S – 2

#
&
48
#
&
B #
? #
? #
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . R œ
mf
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ .
mf
˙ ˙
mf
œ
R
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
œ œ œ
mf
Œ
Œ
‰. R œ
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . R œ
cresc.
Ÿ Ÿ
œ œ œ ‰ . R œ
cresc.
˙ œ ‰ . R œ
cresc.
˙.
Œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ
> œ> ˙>
f
œ œ ˙
f
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
f
œ ˙
f
œ ˙
f
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
w
w
w
w
w
p
p
p
p
p
#
&
˙
56 .
œ œ
˙
˙
œ
Œ
˙
˙.
œ
˙.
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
w
w
w
#
&
˙.
œ œ
˙
˙
œ Œ
˙
˙.
œ
˙.
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
w
w
w
B #
w
˙
˙
w
dim.
w
˙
Ó
ppp
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
p marcato
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
? #
w
w
dim.
w
˙ Ó
ppp
? #
w
w
œ Œ Ó
ppp
#
&
66
˙˙
#
&
B #
? #
? #
˙
w
w
pp
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
. ˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
˙.
w
w
w
p
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
w
˙
œ ˙.
w
w
˙.
w
pp
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
w
w
˙ ˙
marcato
˙ ˙
marcato
˙ ˙
marcato
w
w
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
. ˙
w
˙
Ó
œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
w
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
PEL27S – 3

#
&
76
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
˙
Ó
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
#
&
w
˙
œ œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙
w
˙
œ œ
B #
w
˙
œ œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙
. ˙
œ
˙.
œ œ
˙
˙
w
˙
œ œ
? #
w
œ œ ˙.
˙
Ó
˙
˙
w
w
w
˙
˙
w
œ œ ˙.
? #
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
86
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
pp
3 3
3
œ œ œ œ œ œ
pp 3
Ó
Ó
w
˙
˙
p
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
3 3
3
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
3
˙.
. ˙
œ œ ˙
œ
œ
œ œ
w
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
mp
˙
mp
˙
mp
˙
mp
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
. ˙
w
œ
? #
#
&
#
&
B #
94
œ œ Œ bœ
œ
p
œ œ Œ œ œ
p
œ œ Œ œ œ
p
˙
˙
œ œ œb˙
œ œ œ ˙
bœ
bœ
œ œn˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œnœ
œ œ
œ œ nœ
œ œbœ
˙ œ œ
b˙
œ. œ.
w
œ . ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
mp
˙.
mp
˙.
mp
œ
cresc.
œ
cresc.
œ
cresc.
˙
˙
˙
# ˙
# ˙
˙
˙
f
˙
f
˙
f
# œ œ œ
# œ œ œ
œ œ œ
? #
? #
˙
Ó
˙.
mp
˙.
mp
œ
cresc.
œ
cresc.
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
f
˙
f
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
PEL27S – 4

102
# œ œ
&
Ó
# œ # œ œ ‰ . r
œ
p stacc.
#
& œ œ Ó
œ œ # œ ‰ . r
œ
p stacc.
B # œ œ œ œ # œ .
# œ ˙
p .
? # œ
pizz.
œ
œ Ó
œ # ˙
mp
? # œ œ œ
pizz.
œ # ˙ Ó
mp
# ˙ .
Œ
˙ .
˙
arco
˙
Œ
œ œ # œ ‰ . # œ
R
p stacc.
# œ # œ œ ‰ . r
œ
œ œ # œ ‰ . r
# œ
˙
˙
# ˙ .
Œ
# ˙
Ó
˙ .
# ˙ .
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
# œ> # œ> œ>
Œ
arco
# œ # œ œ Œ
p
Ÿ I Ÿ
# œ # œ œ
‰ .
mf
Ÿ Ÿ I
œ œ # œ
‰ .
R œ
R œ
mf
˙ ˙
mf
˙
pizz.
mf
˙
pizz.
mf
Ó
Ó
# ˙ .
˙ .
˙
˙
arco
œ œ # œ
Œ
Œ
‰ . # R œ
#
&
109
œ
Ÿ I Ÿ
# # œ œ
‰ . R œ
# Ÿ Ÿ I
œ œ # œ
&
‰ . # œ
R
B #
? #
? #
˙
# ˙ .
# ˙
œ
Ó
‰ .
Œ
R œ
œ # œ œ œ # œ # œ œ
# ˙ # œ œ œ # œ
˙ œ œ
˙ œ # œ
arco
˙ œ # œ
# œ # œ œ ‰ . œ R
mp
œ œ # œ ‰ .
r
œ
mp
œ # œ ˙
mp
˙ .
mp
˙ .
mp
Œ
Œ
# ˙ .
Œ
˙ .
˙
˙
œ œ # œ
œ
Œ
˙
‰ . # R œ
# # œ œ ‰ .
œ
R
œ œ # œ ‰ . r
# œ
˙
# ˙ .
Œ
. ˙
Œ
# ˙ .
Œ
˙
˙
# œ # œ œ Œ
# œ # œ œ Œ
œ
# œ œ ‰ . œ R
n œ œ œ ‰ . r
œ
˙
cresc.
cresc.
˙
cresc.
˙ .
‰ . œ R
#
&
116
#
&
B #
œ
# œ œ ‰ . R œ
œ œ œ ‰ . n œ
R
˙ œ ‰ .
r
œ
Ÿ
œ œ
Ÿ Ÿ
œ
Ÿ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ÿ
œ
Ÿ
œ
Ÿ
œ
Ÿ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Ÿ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
w
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
Œ
˙
œ
Œ
˙˙
œ
Œ
ff
ff
˙
ff
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙˙
? #
? #
. ˙ ‰ .
œ
R
w
w
˙
Ó
˙
ff
˙
ff
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
w
w
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
PEL27S – 5

124 œ œ œ
# œ œ œ
&
w
˙
Ó
˙
˙
. ˙
œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
#
&
w
˙
œ œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
.
œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙
w
˙
œ œ
B #
w
˙
œ œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙.
œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙˙
w
˙
œ œ
? #
w
œ œ ˙.
˙
Ó
˙
˙
w
w
w
˙
˙
w
œ œ ˙.
? #
w
œ œ ˙.
˙
Ó
˙
˙
w
w
w
˙
˙
w
œ œ ˙.
#
&
134
˙
#
& ˙
B # ˙
? # ˙
? # ˙
Ó
Ó
Ó
Ó
Ó
˙
˙
˙
n˙
n˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œnœ
œnœ
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
n˙.
n˙.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
˙
˙
w
w
˙
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
. ˙
w
w
œ
œ œ Œ œ œ
mp
œ œ Œ œ œ
mp
œ œ Œ œ œ
mp
˙
˙
Œ œ œ
mp
Œ œ œ
mp
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
143
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
cresc.
˙
cresc.
˙
cresc.
˙
cresc.
˙
cresc.
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ ˙
ff
œ œ œ ˙
ff
œ œ œ ˙
ff
œ œ ˙.
ff
œ œ ˙ .
ff
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ
˙.
œ œ ˙.
œ œ ˙.
œ œ
˙.
œ œ ˙.
œ œ ˙.
œ œ
w
p
w
p
w
p
w
p
w
p
˙.
˙.
w
w
w
œ œ
œ œ
PEL27S – 6

153
# ˙ ˙
&
#
&
B #
? #
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
w
dim.
œ
Œ
˙
œ Œ ˙
w
w
dim.
˙.
˙.
w
˙ Ó
ppp
œ
œ
˙.
˙.
˙ Ó
ppp
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
w
w
˙
˙
p
w
p
più cresc.
œ œ œ œ
più cresc.
œ œ œ œ
più cresc.
più cresc.
˙.
œ
˙ œ œ œ- œ-
˙
w
œ œ œ œ
. ˙
mp
w
mp
˙
mp
w
mp
œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
˙
œ œ . ˙
w
œ œ œ œ
? #
w
œ Œ Ó
ppp
#
&
#
&
163
œ ˙ œ œ
œ œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
œ œ ˙ œ œ
œ ˙ œ œ
dim.
œ ˙ œ œ
dim.
œ ˙ œ œ
˙ œ œ
w
w
p
˙
p
˙
w
w
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙.
w
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
œ œ œ
w
˙
˙
B # w
? # w
? # w
pp
w
w
w
œ ˙ œ œ
w
w
dim.
dim.
w
w
w
w
mp
w
pp
w
˙.
w
w
œ œ
w
w
w
˙
w
w
˙
w
w
w
˙
w
˙
œ œ œ
Ó
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
173
,
˙. ˙
,
˙. ˙
,
˙ ˙.
,
˙. ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
# ˙
˙
˙
˙
w> w> w> w>
mp
œ ˙ œ œ
mp
œ ˙ œ œ
mp
w
mp
dim.
œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙
dim.
œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙
dim.
w w w
dim.
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
pp
œ œ œ œ œ
pp
˙.
œ.
pp
w
pp
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
w
w
œ
w
w
w
w
w
PEL27S – 7

=
=
=
=
=
II
Allegro h. = 58
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Violoncello
Double Bass
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
IV
4 3 ˙.
sfp
4 3 IV
˙.
sfp
4 3 ˙.
sfp
4 3 ˙.
sfp
4 3 ˙.
sfp
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
pizz.
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
dim.
Œ
Œ
Œ
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
p leggiero
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
p leggiero
‰ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
p leggiero
œ œ ˙
˙ Œ
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
‰ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
spicc. sempre
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
spicc. sempre
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
spicc. sempre
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
9
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
œ œ œ ˙
mp
œ ˙
mp
˙.
mp
˙
Œ
Œ
˙
˙ Œ
arco
˙.
mp dim.
˙.
mp dim.
˙
˙.
Œ
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
18
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ
p .
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ
p .
‰ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
p
pizz.
œ œ ˙
p
Œ
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
j
‰ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ . œ . œ œ bœ
œ œ œ
mp sf
‰ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ j œ. œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ
mp sf
‰ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ. œ.
J œ# œ œ œ œ œ
mp sf
œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ
arco
mp
PEL27S – 8

=
=
<
#
&
25
#
&
B #
? #
? #
b˙
˙
˙
˙.
œ
nœ
nœ
œ œ # œ
œ œ # œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ
nœ
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
IV
˙.
sfp
IV
˙.
sfp
˙.
sfp
˙.
sfp
˙.
sfp
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
pizz.
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙
˙
˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
dim.
Œ
Œ
Œ
‰ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ
p .
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
p
‰ œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
p
œ œ ˙
˙ Œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
35
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ œ œ œ
>
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ ˙
˙.
œ œ œ ˙
mp
œ ˙
mp
˙.
mp
œ ˙
mp
œ ˙
mp
œ ˙
mp
arco
˙.
mp
œ œ œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ# œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
˙.
˙.
˙
#˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ
p .
‰ œ. œ . œ . œ . œ .
p
‰ n œ . œ . œ . œ . œ .
p
pizz.
œ œ ˙
p
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
44
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
ṗiù cresc.
più cresc.
più cresc.
œ
più cresc.
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
bœ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ . b œ . ˙æ
œ .
œ . œ@ œ @ œ @ œ@
œ. œ. œ @
œ @
œ
@
œ
@
arco
œ . œ . œ œ œ œ
@ @ @ @
PEL27S – 9

52
#
& b˙.
f
#
& b˙.
f
B # b˙
œ
f
? # bœ
Œ Œ
f
pizz.
? # bœ
Œ Œ
sf
˙.
dim.
œ œ œ
dim.
œ œ œ
dim.
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ bœ
˙.
mp
œ ˙
œ n˙
œ ˙
˙.
œ œ œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
mp
œ œ ˙
mp
œ œ ˙
mp
˙.
arco
˙.
p
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
#˙
Œ
f
˙
Œ
f
#˙
Œ
f
. ˙. ˙
f
˙.
f
œ # œ œ
œ œ œ
œ # œ œ
. ˙. ˙
˙.
# œ nœ
œ nœ
# œ nœ
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
œ
œ œ œ
œ nœ
œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
# œ œ Œ
œ œ Œ
œ œ bœ
œ œ
bœ
œ œ
bœ
#
&
63
#
&
B #
b˙
? #
b˙.
? #
b˙.
Œ Œ nœ
Œ Œ œ
nœ
# œ ˙
œ b˙
# œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
dim.
dim.
dim.
dim.
dim.
œ nœ
bœ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
nœ
œ œ nœ
œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙
mp
˙
mp
˙
mp
˙.
mp
˙.
mp
nœ
œ
œ
nœ
œ œ œ ˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ
Œ
Œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
˙.
fp
#˙.
fp
˙.
fp
˙.
fp
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
fp
# œ
fp
œ
fp
œ
fp
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
fp
# œ
fp
œ
fp
œ
fp
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
œ
nœ
#
&
#
&
B #
? #
? #
74
œ œ œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
˙.
sfp
˙.
sfp
˙
sfp
˙.
sfp
˙.
p
œ
˙.
˙.
œ œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ ! œ ! œ ! b œ
! œ ! œ !
˙.
˙.
œ œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ
! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ
œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ
! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
œ
! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ !
PEL27S – 10

#
&
83
B #
? #
œ ! œ ! œ ! b œ ! œ ! œ !
#
& œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ ! œ!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
# œ œ œ œ œ œ
! ! ! ! ! !
œ
!
œ
!
b œ n œ œ œ
! ! ! !
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ œ œ œ œ œ ! ! ! ! ! !
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
! ! ! ! ! ! !
# œ œ
! !
œ
!
˙.
œ
!
p
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
˙.
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
˙.
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
p
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
˙.
œ
!
œ
!
cresc.
œ
!
œ œ œ
! ! !
cresc.
œ
!
cresc.
œ
!
cresc.
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
˙
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
œ
!
n œ !
œ
!
œ œ
? #
# # œ œ œ œ œ
& ! ! ! ! ! !
f
90
œ
# #œ
œ œ œ œ
& # œ œ! œ! œ! œ!
! !
f
#œ
B # œ œ œ œ œ
! ! ! ! ! !
f
? # œ œ œ œ œ œ ! ! ! ! !
f
? #
#œ
Œ
# œ Œ
#
œ
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ Œ œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
# œ œ
œ
#œ
œ
# œ
œ
Œ œ œ
# # # #
# #
# #
# # # #
# #
# #
# # # #
œ.
ff
˙
ff
˙
˙
ff
˙.
ff
˙.
ff
œ- œ
J
œ
œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ. œ . œ . œ .
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
# #
& # #
98
œ œ œ œ œ œ# œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
œ- œ
J
œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
œ- œ
J
œ
œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
#
& #
# #
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
B # # # #
˙.
˙
œ œ œ
˙
œ œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ ˙
? # #
# #
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ ˙
? # #
# #
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ ˙
PEL27S – 11

# #
& # #
106
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ œ œ œ# œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
œ- œ
J
œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
# #
& # #
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ.
J
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
B # # # #
œ œ ˙
œ œ œ . œ . œ . œ .
˙.
˙
œ œ œ
˙
œ œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
? # # # #
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
? # #
# #
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
# #
& # #
# #
& # #
B # # # #
? # #
# #
? # #
# #
113
œ
J ‰ ˙
œ ‰
J ˙
œ
J ‰ ˙
œ ‰ ˙
J
œ ‰ ˙
J
œ œ# œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
. œ
œ.
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
j
œ ‰ ˙
j
œ ‰ ˙
œ
J ‰ ˙
œ ‰ ˙
J
œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
œ œ œ œ œ œ
allargando
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
f
˙
j
n œ .
j
œ ˙.
j
n œ ˙.
j
n œ ˙.
˙.
dim. molto
˙.
dim. molto
div.
j
n œ ˙.
˙.
dim. molto
˙.
dim. molto
˙.
dim. molto
˙.
˙.
n˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
pp
#˙.
pp
. ˙. ˙
pp
div.
˙
˙.
ppp
˙.
ppp
œ œ œ
legatissimo
˙
legatissimo
. ˙. ˙
˙
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
123 œ œ
# #
& # #
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
# #
& # #
œ œ œ
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
B # # # #
. ˙. ˙
. ˙. ˙
œ
˙˙
˙
˙.
˙
˙
œ
.
˙.
.
˙.
.
˙.
.
˙.
? # # # #
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
˙
˙.
? # #
# #
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
PEL27S – 12

III
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
4
&
&
B
Adagio sostenuto q = 72
4
4
con sord., div.
Ó
Œ œ
con sord., div.
Ó
ww
Œ œ
œ
pp
w
w
˙w
˙-
˙
˙.
˙w
˙
œ
œ
con sord., div. w
w
pp
w ˙. w ˙
˙w
˙
˙w
˙
œ
œ
w
w
w
w
˙w
>
˙˙
con sord., div.
? 4
Violoncello Ó Œ œ
w
pp legatissimo
œw
˙-
œ œ
˙w.
œ
œw
˙-
œ œ
˙w.
œ
œw
˙-
œ
# ˙.
w œ
Double Bass
?
pp legatissimo
con sord.
4
w
ppp
w
w
w
w
w
w
w
9 .
&
˙
˙.
œ>
œ
w
w
˙.
˙.
œ>
œ
w
w
˙.
˙.
œ>
œ
˙.
˙.
œ>
œ
˙
˙.
œ
œ
˙
˙.
œ
œ
&
B
˙
œ
˙.
œ
>
# #
œœ ˙ œ
w
w
# ˙.
œ œ n
˙
˙.
œ ˙
˙.
œ
œ
>
#œœ
w
w
# ˙.
œ œ n
˙
˙.
œ ˙
˙.
œ
œ
>
#œœ
˙
œ
˙.
œ
>
œ # œ # œ##
œ
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
œ # ˙ # œ
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
# ˙. ## œ
?
?
œ. ˙
w
j
œ ˙˙
œ ˙
w
œ ˙
œ œ
œ œ
.
˙
. ˙
˙
œ
œ
œ ˙
w
œ ˙
œ œ
œ œ
.
˙
. ˙
˙
œ
œ
w
w
unis.
˙
mp
˙
mp
œ œ
œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ
œ
17 œ
& œ
˙˙
&
B
?
?
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
# ˙ # ˙
w
w
w
œ
œ
più cresc.
œ
œ
più cresc.
œ
œ
˙
˙
# œ
#œ
# œ # œ
#œ #
˙˙ œ
œ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
più cresc.
più cresc.
più cresc.
w
w
˙
˙
unis.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
mf
# œ
mf
# œ
mf
w
w
mf
w
w
mf
w
˙
˙
œ œ
œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ b˙
œ b˙
ten.
ten.
Œ
Œ
Œ
œ ⇥ œbœ
> >
œ ⇥ œbœ
> >
Œ ˙æ œæ
sff
Œ
˙æ
sff
nϾ
Œ ˙æ bœæ
sff
bw
>
ff
bw
>
ff
j
œ ‰ . -
˙æ
˙.
sff
j
œ
‰ - ˙æ.
sff
j
œ -
‰ n˙æ
.
sff
,
œ b˙
>
.
,
œ b˙
>
.
w
w
p
w
p
w
p
˙
p
˙
p
b˙
b˙
w
w
pp
w
pp
w
pp
w
pp
w
ppp
PEL27S – 13

26
&
w
w
w
w
w
œ
˙
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ w
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
più cresc.
&
w
w
w
w
b˙
˙
bœ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ nœ
œ œ œ œ
B
?
w
w
div.
œ ˙
w
œ œ
œ
œ
˙
w
˙
˙
œ œ
˙
w
wœ
œ Œ
˙
Ó
w
˙
.
Œ
w
w
w
più cresc.
più cresc.
?
œ ˙
œ œ
˙
˙
w
œ Œ
Ó
33
œ œ ˙ # œ
&
& œ œ ˙
B
? Œ
?
. ˙
˙.
pp
# œ
œ
# ˙ œ œ œ œ
# ˙ œ œ# œ#
œ
w
w
più cresc.
w
pp
più cresc.
# ˙ œ œ œ # œ
# ˙ œ # œ # œ # œ
w
˙.
˙.
#œ
#œ
n˙.
nœ
f
n˙.
œ
f
. ˙. ˙ œ
f
# ˙. # œ
mf
# ˙. # œ
mf
nw
w
˙.
# œ ˙.
# œ ˙.
œ
œ ˙.
p
œ œ œ œ œ œ
p
˙.
œ
p
w
p
w
p
w
œ
. ˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
w
w
al niente
al niente
al niente
al niente
al niente
w
w
œ
˙.
œ ˙
˙
œ ˙
œ œ
w
w
w
w
w
Allegro h. = 58
IV
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Violoncello
Double Bass
& 4 3
& 4 3
B 4 3
?
4 3
?
4 3
˙.
>
p
˙.
p
>
>
˙.
p
˙.
p
>
pizz.
˙
p
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
>
˙
>
>
˙.
˙
>
˙
œ œ
œ œ
Œ
˙.
œ œ œ œbœ
˙.
œ œ œ œbœ
œ ˙
œ b˙
œ ˙
œ b˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ
œ bœ
œ œ
œ bœ
bœ
œ Œ
Œ
œ
f
nœ
f
œ Œ œ
f
bœ
Œ nœ
f
Œ Œ
œ
arco
f
˙.
˙.
˙.
. ˙. ˙
˙.
œ Œ Œ ˙
>
.
p
œ Œ Œ ˙
p
>
œ Œ Œ >
˙.
p
Œ Œ
œ ˙
p>
œ ˙ Œ Œ
pizz.
mp
œ œ
œ œ
Œ
PEL27S – 14

11
& ˙.
&
B
?
?
œ œ œ œbœ
˙.
œ œ œ œbœ
œ ˙
œ b˙
œ ˙
œ b˙
b˙>
b˙
>
b˙
>
b˙>
bœ
bœ
œnœ
œ
œnœ
œ
œ Œ Œ
œ Œ
nœ
p
œ Œ œ
p
œ Œ nœ
p
œ.
˙
œ.
j
œ œ œ
œ œ
j
œ œ œ
œ . œ . œ
œ . œ . ˙
œ . œ . ˙
Œ
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
˙.
ff
˙.
ff
˙.
ff
˙.
ff
arco
˙.
ff
œ.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
22 œ œ œ œ œ
&
œ œ œ œ
&
œ œ œ œ
B œ
? œ œ œ œ
? œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
˙>
.
˙.
˙˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙
˙
˙˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ.
˙.
. ˙. ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ ˙>
.
Œ
œ œ œ Œ ˙.
>
œ œ œ Œ ˙.
˙.
>
œ œ œ Œ ˙
˙.
>
œ œ œ Œ ˙.
>
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
œ
&
mp
34 .
œ.
&
mp
B ˙.
mp
?
?
bœ
J
œ œ
œ œ
J œ
œ . œ . ˙
œ . œ . ˙
œ . œ . b˙
˙>
œ œ
˙.
˙
˙.
bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ . ˙-
œ. ˙-
œ .
œ .
b˙
-
b- ˙
b˙
f
˙
f
b˙
f
˙
f
œ
bœ
œ
œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
> >
œ ‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
œ ‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
˙
˙.
˙.
f
b œ
b œ
˙
˙.
˙.
‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
œ
œ Œ bœ
ff
bœ
ff
Œ œ
bœ
Œ œ
ff
œ
œ Œ œ
ff
œ Œ Œ
Œ œ Œ
Œ nœ
Œ
Œ œ œ Œ
Œ
œ Œ
PEL27S – 15

43
& ˙.
p
& ˙.
p
B ˙.
p
?
˙
p
œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
˙
˙
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ
œ œ
œ.
˙
œ.
˙
œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
cresc.
œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
cresc.
œ.
œ.
œ.
˙.
œ œ
J œ
œ œ
J œ
œ œ œ
J
œ.
J œ œ œ œ.
J œ œ œ
˙ œ œ ˙.
œ. œ
J
œ œ ˙ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
œ.
œ
J
œ œ
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
f
˙.
>
f
˙.
f
˙
f
œ œ
˙ œ œ
˙ œ œ
> >
˙ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
?
˙. ˙.
&
>
& ˙. ˙.
>
˙.
B ˙.
? ˙. ˙.
?
53
œ ˙
>
œ ˙
>
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙. > ˙ œ> œ> ˙. > ˙. > œ œ> œ>
ff
œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ ˙. ˙. œ œ
> >
œ
ff
˙. ˙ œ œ ˙. ˙. œ œ> œ>
ff
˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. ˙. œ œ> œ
>
ff
˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. ˙. œ œ> œ
>
ff
œ>
œ Œ
œ Œ
>
œ Œ
>
œ Œ
>
œ Œ
>
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
#˙.
mp
˙.
mp
˙.
mp
˙.
mp
˙.
p
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
65 .
&
&
B
˙
# ˙ œ
˙
œ
# ˙ œ œ
œ# œ œ œ# œ œ
˙.
#œ
œ ‰ .
œ ‰ .
‰. # R œ œ
œ œ
R
r
œ œ
œ œ # œ
œ œ # œ
œ œ œ
#˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
#˙.
˙.
#˙.
˙.
cresc.
˙.
cresc.
˙.
cresc.
#˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
˙
# œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ . f ˙
œ . >
f ˙
œ . ˙
f
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
?
?
˙.
˙
Œ
˙.
˙.
œ # œ œ
˙.
˙
Œ
˙.
˙.
p
˙.
cresc.
˙.
˙.
˙
Œ
˙
œ œ
œ ˙ .
f
œ . ˙
f
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
PEL27S – 16

77
#
.
& ˙
mf
& #˙.
mf
B #˙.
mf
? #˙.
mf
?
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
#
œ ˙
div.
f
div.
œ # ˙
f
œ # ˙
f
˙.
f
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
˙.
p
˙.
p
˙.
p
˙
p
œ
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
# œ œ
cresc.
# œ œ
cresc.
cresc.
cresc.
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙.
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ œ œ œ ˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙.
mp
unis.
˙
œ
˙.
œ
˙ œ
˙.
˙.
cresc.
˙ œ œ
unis.
˙.
˙ œ œ
˙.
˙.
œ.
˙.
œ.
˙.
˙.
œ
J
œ œ
œ œ
J œ
œ
&
. ˙
f >
& œ .
f
˙
B œ . ˙
f
? œ . ˙
f
? œ . ˙
f
89
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
#˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙.
mf
˙
˙
˙
˙.
# œ œ
œ œ
# œ œ
œ.
œ.
œ.
˙.
# œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
J # œ
cresc.
cresc.
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
# œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
ff
œ œ œ œ œ œ
ff
œ œ œ œ œ œ
ff
œ œ œ œ œ œ
ff
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
99
&
&
B
?
?
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
ff
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
p
˙
p
˙
p
˙
pp
œ
œ
œ
œ
j
œ ‰ Œ
œ.
œ.
j
œ ‰ Œ
Œ
j
œ œ œ
j
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
pp
˙.
pp
˙.
œ ˙
œ.
. œ
˙.
˙
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
PEL27S – 17

˙
&
f
111 .
˙.
&
f
B ˙.
f
?
˙.
f
?
˙.
f
œ.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ
˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ.
˙.
. ˙. ˙
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
122 œ ˙
&
œ ˙
&
œ ˙
B
? œ ˙
? œ ˙
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ Œ
œ œ œ Œ
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
˙.
>
˙
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
Œ
œ.
mp
œ.
mp
˙.
mp
bœ
J
œ œ
œ œ
J œ
œ . œ . ˙
œ . œ . ˙
œ . œ . b˙
˙
œ œ
˙.
˙
˙.
bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ .
˙
œ. ˙
œ .
œ .
b˙
b˙
b˙
f
˙
f
b˙
f
˙
f
œ
bœ
œ
œ
132
˙.
& ˙.
&
B
˙
? ˙.
?
œ ‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
œ ‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
˙.
f
˙.
˙.
b œ
b œ
˙
˙.
˙.
‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
‰ bœ
œ œ œ œbœ
œ
œ Œ bœ
ff
bœ
ff
Œ œ
bœ
Œ œ
ff
œ
œ Œ œ
ff
œ Œ Œ
. Œ œ Œ ˙
Œ
œ Œ ˙
p
Œ nœ
Œ ˙.
p
Œ œ Œ ˙.
p
p
œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
˙
˙
˙.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ
œ œ
œ.
˙
œ.
˙
œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
cresc.
œ œ
J œ
cresc.
œ œ
cresc.
œ.
œ.
œ.
˙.
œ œ
J œ
œ œ
J œ
œ œ œ
J
PEL27S – 18

=
œ
&
141
.
œ.
&
œ
B
œ œ œ œ œ
? ˙
J œ œ œ
œ œ
J œ
œ œ
. œ
˙
J œ œ œ
œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
œ.
œ.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
j
œ œ œ
˙.
mf
˙. >
mf
˙ œ> œ
>
˙. ˙ œ œ
mf
˙
mf
œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ# œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙. >
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙. >
˙.
˙.
œ ˙
œ
> ˙>
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
œ œ
?
˙
mf
Œ
˙
Œ
151 ˙ œ œ
&
˙
&
œ œ
B ˙ œ œ
? œ œ œ œ œ œ
?
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
f
˙.
f
˙ œ œ #˙. ˙.
œ ˙
˙. > ˙ œ> œ> ˙. > ˙. >
œ> ˙>
f
˙
f
˙
f
œ œ
œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ # œ œ œ # œ œ
œ # œ œ œ # œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
˙.
nœ
œ ˙
œ œ ˙
˙
˙
œ œ
œ œ
˙ œ œ
˙ œ œ
˙ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
163
&
˙.
&
B
˙.
?
˙.
?
˙.
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ ˙
œ.
œ.
œ.
œ.
œ.
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ
J
œ œ œ
J
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
œ
œ .
ff
œ .
ff
œ .
ff
œ
œ .
ff
œ .
ff
IV
˙
>
IV
˙
>
˙
>
˙
>
˙
>
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
œ.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
˙.
>
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
7
˙.
f
˙.
f
˙.
f
˙.
f
˙.
˙.
b˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙
˙.
œ
œ
PEL27S – 19

175 ˙ œ œ
&
œ
‰. R œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ.
œ œ œ
J
œ
‰. R œ œ
œ œ œ
&
œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ
‰. R œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ œ œ œ œ
œ ‰. R œ œ
œ œ œ
B
?
˙.
˙.
œ
˙.
‰.
œ œ
R
œ œ œ
œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ.
˙
œ œ
J œ
œ
œ ‰. R œ œ
˙.
œ œ œ
˙.
?
˙.
mf
œ œ œ
˙.
˙
Œ
˙.
mf
˙.
˙
&
186
.
˙.
&
˙.
B
? ˙.
? ˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
Œ
Œ
Œ
˙
˙.
sf
˙.
sf
b˙
sf
b˙
sf
˙
sf
˙
mf
˙
mf
˙
mf
˙
˙.
mf
˙.
mf
bœ
œ œ
bœ
œ bœ
œ.
bœ.
bœ.
˙.
œ œ
J bœ
cresc.
bœ
J
cresc.
œ œ
bœ
œ
J œ
cresc.
cresc.
bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ bœ
œ œ bœ
œ œ œ œ bœ
œ bœ
œ
œ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ œ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ bœ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
bœ
bœ
œ bœ
bœ
œ œ bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ bœ
bœ
ff
bœ
ff
bœ
ff
bœ
ff
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ bœ
œ
œ œ œ œ œ
195
&
œ bœ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
œ
‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ. ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ.
˙
sf
˙
œ œ
˙.
˙.
&
B
?
?
œ bœ
œ bœ
œ bœ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
œ
œ
˙.
˙.
f
‰ bœ
‰ bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
b œ .
b œ .
˙.
˙.
‰ bœ
‰ bœ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
bœ
œ œ œ œ
b œ .
b œ .
œ .
œ .
n˙
sf
n˙
sf
˙
sf
˙
sf
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
œ œ
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙.
˙
˙.
˙.
PEL27S – 20

THE DOUGLAS LILBURN COLLECTION
A NEW ZEALAND CHRISTMAS • Piano • PEL10
A SONG OF ISLANDS • Orchestra • PEL23
BACKBLOCK MEDICAL SERVICE • Chamber Orchestra • PEL30
DIVERSIONS FOR STRING ORCHESTRA • String Orchestra • PEL26
DRYSDALE OVERTURE • Orchestra • PEL21
LANDFALL IN UNKNOWN SEAS • Narrator and String Orchestra • PEL27
PIANO PRELUDES • Piano • PEL13
PIANO SONATAS • Piano • PEL11
PIANO SONATINAS • Piano • PEL12
PIECES FOR PIANO • Piano • PEL09
PRODIGAL COUNTRY • Baritone, Chorus and Orchestra • PEL22
SINFONIA FOR STRINGS • String Orchestra • PEL28
SINGS HARRY, HOLIDAY PIECE, THE MAGPIES • Voice and Piano • PEL25
SUITE FOR STRINGS • String Orchestra • PEL29
SYMPHONY NO.1 • Orchestra • PEL24
THE COMPLETE PIANO MUSIC EDITION • Piano • PEL01–PEL08
ISMN 979-0-67452-320-2
www.prometheaneditions.com
Printed in New Zealand • PEL27S • PNY PREPEL27S
DOUGLAS LILBURN LANDFALL IN UNKNOWN SEAS PEL27S