Richmond Symphony Chorus Director
James Erb Choral Chair

Richard W. Robbins is Director of the Richmond Symphony Chorus. His choirs have been praised as “moving” (Houston Chronicle) and “powerful” (Duluth News Tribune), with performances broadcast nationally on American Public Media’s Pipedreams.

He has served as chorus master for the Duluth Superior Symphony Orchestra and Houston Ballet, and as assistant director of the Houston Symphony Chorus, preparing ensembles for Christoph Eschenbach, Hans Graf, Ermanno Florio, and others. His collaborations include work with the Minneapolis Guitar Quartet, Lyric Opera of the North, and ARENA DANCES.

A frequent clinician and guest conductor, Robbins has appeared across the United States and internationally. He is Choral Artist-in-Residence and Director of Choral Activities at Shenandoah Conservatory. To learn more visit richmondsymphony.com

Richard W. Robbins | CHORUS DIRECTOR
 JAMES ERB CHORAL CHAIR
Kevin L. Barger | ASSISTANT CHORUS DIRECTOR 
Daniel Stipe | REHEARSAL ACCOMPANIST 
Janice Guzman | CHORUS MANAGER 
Barbara C. Batson, Carl J. Eng, and Lisa C. Fusco | REHEARSAL ASSISTANTS

shenandoah
Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you
And hear your rolling river
Way, we’re bound away
Across the wide Missouri.
I long to see your smiling valley...
‘Tis seven long years since last I’ve
seen you...

I AM THE ROSE OF SHARON
I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys
As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood,
so is my beloved among the sons.
I sat down under his shadow with great delight,
and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting house,
his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples:
For I am sick of love.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem
by the roes, and by the hinds of the fiеld,
that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till hе please.
The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh
leaping upon the mountains,
skipping upon the hills.

My beloved spake, and said unto me,
Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

For, lo, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.

DEEP RIVER
Deep river, 
My home is over Jordan. 
Deep river, Lord, 
I want to cross over into campground.

Oh, don’t you want to go, 
To the Gospel feast; 
That Promised Land, 
Where all is peace? 

Oh, deep river.

LISTEN TO THE LAMBS
Listen to the lambs!
All a-crying!

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd, and carry the young lambs in his bosom. 

HARK, I HEAR THE harps eternal
Hark I hear the harps eternal ringing on the farther shore
As I near those swollen waters with their deep and solemn roar

Hallelujah, praise the lamb
Hallelujah, glory to the great I AM!

And my soul though stained with sorrow, fading as the light of day
Passes swiftly o’er those waters to the city far away

Souls have crossed before me saintly to that land of perfect rest
And I hear them singing faintly in the mansions of the blest

PEACE I LEAVE WITH YOU
Peace I leave with you,
My peace I give to you.
Not as the world giveth give I unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled.

ALLELUIA
Alleluia.

FROSTIANA, ON THE POETRY OF ROBERT FROST
1. The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and 
wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference

2. THE PASTURE

I’m going out to clean 
the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, 
I may): I sha’n’t be gone long
You come too

I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night
Though it still could sing

Inside it was dark 
It’s so young
It totters when she licks it with her tongue
I sha’n’t be gone long
You come too

3. Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush’s breast

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went --
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn’t been

4. The Telephone

“When I was just as far as I could walk
From here to-day
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head 
against a flower
I heard you talk
Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say -
You spoke from that flower 
on the window sill -
Do you remember what it was you said?”

“First tell me what it was you thought you heard.”
“Having found the flower and driven a bee away
I leaned my head
And holding by the stalk
I listened and I thought I caught the word -

What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say
Someone said ‘Come’
- I heard it as I bowed.”
“I may have thought as much, but not aloud.”
“Well, so I came.”

5. A Girl’s Garden

A neighbor of mine in the village
Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, 
she did
A childlike thing

One day she asked her father
To give her a garden plot
To plant and tend and reap herself
And he said, “Why not?”

In casting about for a corner
He thought of an idle bit
Of walled
-off ground where a shop had stood
And he said, “Just it.”

And he said, “That ought to make you
An ideal one-girl farm
And give you a chance to put 
some strength
On your slim-jim arm.”

It was not enough of a garden
Her father said, to plough;
So she had to work it all by hand
But she don’t mind now 

She wheeled the dung in the 
wheelbarrow
Along a stretch of road;
But she always ran away and left
Her not-nice load

And hid from anyone passing
And then she begged the seed
She says she thinks she planted one
Of all things but weed

A hill each of potatoes
Radishes, lettuce, peas
Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, 
corn and even fruit trees

And yes, she has long mistrusted
That a cider apple tree
In bearing there to
-day is hers
Or at least may be

Her crop was a miscellany
When all was said and done
A little bit of everything
A great deal of none

Now when she sees in the village
How village things go
Just when it seems to come in right
She says, “I know!
It’s as when I was a farmer--“
Oh, never by way of advice!
And she never sins by telling the tale
To the same person twice

6. Stopping by woods on a snowy evening

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farm-house near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake

The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

7. CHOOSE SOMETHING LIKE A STAR

O Star (the fairest one in sight)
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud
It will not do to say of night
Since dark is what brings out your light
Some mystery becomes the proud
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat
Say something! And it says “I burn.”
But say with what degree of heat
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade
Use language we can comprehend
Tell us what elements you blend
It gives us strangely little aid
But does tell something in the end
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite
Not even stooping from its sphere
It asks a little of us here
It asks of us a certain height
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid

THURSDAY, APRIL 9, 2026 | 6:00PM
CAPITOL BELL TOWER
FREE | NO TICKET REQUIRED

Honoring the 100th anniversary of James Erb, the founding director of the Richmond Symphony Chorus and the celebrated arranger of the beloved American folk song.

The free public performance at Capitol Bell Tower will recognize Erb’s lasting impact on choral music in Richmond and beyond, while inviting singers across the Commonwealth to take part. In a special call to action, Virginia choral groups are encouraged to join virtually by performing Shenandoah alongside the Richmond Symphony Chorus and sharing in this statewide musical tribute. The event will also be livestreamed on Richmond Symphony social media channels, allowing audiences and participating ensembles to experience the performance from anywhere.