This important new release of a cappella music by Francis Pott draws its title from the final line of Wilfrid Gibson’s poem ‘Lament’. It captures that aching sense of loss which threads through much of this music. This should not imply a lack of joy or exultation – as a supreme choral polyphonist Pott can build up an agitated climax with the best of them – but it is those melting moments of repose which are especially telling and memorable.

The disc consists of the substantial Mass for Eight Parts of 2010-11, interspersed with an antidotal anthology of shorter pieces. With a duration of over 40 minutes, the Mass (cast in five movements and omitting the Creed) reveals all of Pott’s harmonic fingerprints: the pivoting chords anchored to false-relation pedal points, rigorous, rolling counterpoint worthy of the Tudor polyphonists and masters such as Rubbra, wrapped up in satisfyingly strenuous textures. For the most part this is demanding music, for both the performer and the listener, not superficial. Those patches of languid repose such as in the Benedictus and the intimacy of Balulalow are deeply moving.

Soprano soloist Grace Davidson floats effortlessly above the Oxford-based chamber choir Commotio, adding her seraphic poise to their perfect intonation. In the loudest tuttis there is a steely, wearying harshness to the sound, as if the Chapel of Merton College cannot quite contain the sheer power of the full-throated attack. This caveat aside, this is a powerful disc of important music.