William Boyce was a prolific composer of odes. He wrote more than 50, most of them for the court, when (from the mid-1750s) he was Master of the King's Music, to celebrate royal birthdays and the new year, but there are a few earlier ones including a couple for St Cecilia's Day. This one, dating from 1739, when he was still in his twenties, seems to be the earliest of all. It is a long piece, to elegant but undistinguished verse by John Lockman, not much of which has any bearing on the patron saint of music (there are long sections that deal with love and war, love especially, before she is invoked). But it is agreeable and appealing music, some of it illustrative, some richly sensuous, and with some expansive choruses very much in the Handelian oratorio manner - not simply owing to the great man's influence, for these predate most of Handel's. It would be foolish to claim that the music was on that level, any more than Lockman's verse is on Dryden's, but there are moments of very individual poetry, of exalted feeling, of typically graceful, 'rural' English melody, and of sturdy, stirring music. And the fugues are spirited and well worked out. I much enjoyed listening to the piece, even if one might begin to feel, as it draws on, that there isn't quite enough strength or variety of feeling.
The version given here is not the London original but Boyce's later revision for a Dublin performance. Graham Lea-Cox directs it with spirit and sympathy, and with a keen feeling for the right tempos. He draws some splendidly confident and energetic singing from the boys and men of the New College Choir, although there are one or two moments of imperfect ensemble. Michael George is outstanding among the soloists; his rich bass adds stature to the music, as well as a visionary quality to some of his recitatives, and his big aria with two trumpets is magnificent. Richard Edgar-Wilson is a pleasantly smooth, gentle tenor with a natural and easy delivery, and William Purefoy sings most of the alto music in clear and polished fashion. Andrew Watts, listed here as a countertenor (Purefoy is identified as an alto, implying that there is some distinction - a contentious area, this), sings music originally intended, apparently, for a very high tenor - and there is an extended recitative which he sings with much poetry. I am less sure about the treble, whose voice is small and pitching is less sure. Still, this is a very attractive piece and the performance as a whole gives a good deal of pleasure.'