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| Sheltering in a cave with her exiled father, Ellen turns to the Virgin for protection—the forgotten dramatic scene behind Schubert’s world-famous Ave Maria. |
Work Information
- Composer:
- Franz Schubert (1797–1828)
- Title:
- Ellens Gesang III (Hymne an die Jungfrau), D 839, Op. 52 No. 6 — commonly known as Ave Maria
- Year of composition:
- April 1825
- Premiere:
- Not documented with certainty; a private performance at Steyregg in the summer of 1825 is possible. A Viennese reference to an “Ellens Gesang” on 31 January 1828 does not identify which of Ellen’s three songs was performed
- Genre:
- Lied for solo voice and piano
- Aesthetic movement:
- Romanticism
- Structure:
- Strophic form: a two-bar piano introduction, one musical strophe repeated for the poem’s three stanzas, and a brief piano postlude
- Duration:
- Approx. 5–7 minutes
- Instrumentation:
- Solo voice and piano
The melody is known everywhere; the story it tells has almost disappeared. The work the world calls “Schubert’s Ave Maria” was not conceived as a setting of the Latin Catholic prayer. It is the song of a young woman who, hidden with her exiled father in a cave in the Scottish wilderness, asks the Virgin for protection through a night of fear.
Schubert composed Ellens Gesang III in April 1825, setting Adam Storck’s German translation of a passage from Walter Scott’s narrative poem The Lady of the Lake. The words “Ave Maria” open and close each of Ellen’s three stanzas, yet the lines between them are not the familiar Latin text. They form a particular, human plea. Ellen speaks of the hard rock on which she must sleep, the threatening cave, the demons of earth and air, and finally her father.
The song belongs to Sieben Gesänge aus Walter Scotts “Fräulein vom See”, a collection of seven settings written for different vocal forces: Ellen’s songs for female voice, solo songs for male voice, and choral numbers. It is therefore not a unified cycle intended for a single singer, but a musical re-creation of several characters and scenes from Scott’s poem. Ellens Gesang III, subtitled Hymne an die Jungfrau—“Hymn to the Virgin”—became the sixth number in the published Op. 52 collection.
During the summer of 1825, while travelling through Upper Austria with the baritone Johann Michael Vogl, Schubert presented songs from the collection in private circles and witnessed their immediate effect on listeners. The exact first performance of Ellens Gesang III remains uncertain. It may have been heard at Steyregg in a setting connected with Countess Sophie von Weissenwolff, to whom it was dedicated. A public performance of an “Ellens Gesang” is recorded at a Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde concert in Vienna on 31 January 1828, but the surviving programme does not specify which of Ellen’s three songs was sung.
The first edition was issued in Vienna by Matthias Artaria in April 1826 with both German and English texts. Its bilingual design reflected Schubert’s wish for the songs to reach Britain, where Scott enjoyed immense popularity. Their subsequent history took another course: the phrase “Ave Maria” gradually became detached from its poetic context, the melody was adapted to the full Latin prayer, and the Lied was transformed into a musical emblem of religious devotion.
Beneath that later fame, the original work still survives: a Romantic Lied of remarkable economy, in which the voice does not rise above fear through theatrical force. It persists quietly in prayer while the piano surrounds every word with an unbroken, delicate motion. Serenity is not present from the outset; it is gradually brought into being within the darkness itself.
Movements / Structure
Ellens Gesang III is a single Lied in strophic form. After a two-bar introduction, the score encloses one musical strophe within repeat signs and places the poem’s three stanzas beneath the same vocal line. Each stanza is framed by the invocation “Ave Maria,” while the essential melodic, harmonic, and pianistic design remains unchanged. Repetition does not hold the work still: as the words change, the same music travels from anxiety to consolation and finally to acceptance.
Piano introduction — 2 bars: Establishes the undulating accompaniment, B-flat major, and the first chromatic shadows that will remain present throughout the song.
First stanza: Ellen prays through the “flinty couch” and asks to pass the night safely despite the cruelty of humankind. The closing “Ave Maria” completes her first plea before the musical design begins again.
Second stanza: The Virgin’s protection imaginatively transforms the hard rock into a soft bed and the cave’s oppressive air into the fragrance of roses. The next return of “Ave Maria” prepares the final, most personal appeal.
Third stanza: Ellen invokes the demons of earth and air, accepts whatever fate may bring, and reveals the deepest reason for her prayer: she is pleading for her father.
Piano postlude: The voice falls silent and the piano prolongs the stillness before settling on a broad B-flat-major chord.
Analysis
The piano introduction: motion without interruption
The opening two bars contain almost the entire sound world of the song. On every beat, the right hand shapes a sixteenth-note sextuplet figure: the first subdivision is silent, while the remaining five notes rise and fall through the chord. The left hand touches a low octave and immediately withdraws. From this alternation emerges an accompaniment that evokes a harp, a quiet breath, and a wave returning without end.
B-flat major is established from the beginning, though never presented as immovable certainty. Inner chromatic notes, changing chord positions, and momentary tensions gently cloud the key’s radiance. What the listener hears is a stillness that already contains the unease of night. The piano does not paint the cave from the outside; it creates the inward space in which the prayer can be spoken.
First stanza: a plea through the rock
The voice enters on the tonic with the first “Ave,” tracing a broad and unhurried curve. The melody moves largely by step, opening into wider intervals when it needs greater height and intensity. The long notes of “Maria” allow the voice to hover above the piano’s ceaseless motion: the human presence seems to suspend time while the accompaniment continues to flow.
At the words describing the “flinty couch,” Schubert does not abandon the lyrical line for direct dramatic illustration. Harmony does the subtler work. The tonal region of B-flat major is crossed by altered notes, secondary dominants, and brief attractions towards G minor, C minor, and F major. These shifts never dissolve the tonal centre; they draw away from it briefly, so that each return can sound like a renewed need for safety.
Near the middle of the stanza, the harmony lingers longer around the dominant while the vocal rhythm becomes more active. As the text turns from private supplication towards the cruelty of humankind, the music acquires greater inward pressure. The climax arrives at “O Jungfrau,” where the voice reaches the highest point of the phrase and the piano makes a brief fortepiano accent before immediately receding. The intensity does not become a cry. It returns to pianissimo, as though the prayer were becoming more profound as it grows quieter.
“Ave Maria” returns at the end of the stanza with its original melodic curve. The first response is no new thematic idea, only a return to the same name. The vocal invocation and the continuing accompaniment form a gentle bridge, allowing the harmony to breathe before the poem’s next image.
Second stanza: when the hard rock becomes soft
The second stanza unfolds over the same music. The text, however, now imagines the shelter transformed: the rock will feel soft and the cave’s oppressive air will fill with the scent of roses if the Virgin’s protection covers Ellen and her father. The experience of listening changes even though the score does not. What sounded in the first stanza like persistence against fear now becomes gentle assurance.
This is the essence of Schubert’s strophic design. Repetition serves more than memory or formal balance. It gives the prayer a ritual quality: the same melody returns as the words of an invocation return, while each poetic image illuminates it differently. The piano, with its continuous sextuplets and restrained low octaves, now sounds less like unsettled motion and more like a protective veil.
The stanza’s climax coincides with the appeal “O Mutter, höre Kindes Flehen”—“O Mother, hear a child’s pleading.” The melody and dynamics are the same as before, yet the word “Mutter” shifts the emotional centre. Ellen is no longer addressing the Virgin only as a sacred figure; she is speaking to a mother as a child. The music gains intimacy without losing its dignity.
Third stanza: the prayer for her father
With the third repetition of the musical strophe, the same “Ave Maria” is heard once more. The poem now introduces its darkest images: demons of earth and air, fate, exile, and threat. Schubert resists the impulse towards immediate dramatic painting. At the word “Dämonen,” he changes neither rhythm, texture, nor melody. The music’s stability becomes the force that keeps fear outside the space of prayer.
The choice is revealing. In a dramatic Lied, the mention of demons might prompt an abrupt change in harmony, tempo, or texture. Here darkness enters the music already known to us and is absorbed by it. The form suggests that Ellen does not overcome danger by external force; she faces it by repeating her faith.
Towards the end, the text reaches its most personal revelation: the child is praying for her father. The phrase occupies the same musical place in which the earlier stanzas spoke more generally of a child’s plea. Only now does the object of the prayer become clear. After the final “Ave Maria,” the voice falls silent and the piano continues alone. The postlude recalls the introduction, prolongs the harp-like wave, then shifts into a lower register and closes on a full B-flat-major chord under a fermata. The music does not tell us whether the danger has passed. It offers something more inward: the sense that Ellen can now wait for morning.
Note on the selected videos: The two performances below reveal the work’s two distinct lives.
In the first, Barbara Bonney, with Geoffrey Parsons at the piano, performs the original German Lied in its intimate form: a conversation between voice and piano in which lucid diction allows Ellen’s narrative to emerge.
In the second video, Luciano Pavarotti sings at the 1994 Three Tenors concert in Los Angeles under Zubin Mehta. Here the later Latin version is heard with orchestral accompaniment in a public, almost ceremonial setting. Heard in sequence, the performances reveal both contrasting interpretive approaches and the profound transformation of the cultural identity of Ellens Gesang III.
Walter Scott, Adam Storck, and the scene behind the melody
Published in 1810, The Lady of the Lake helped shape the Romantic image of Scotland throughout Europe. Scott brought historical conflict, adventure, landscape, and legend together around Loch Katrine. In the poem’s third canto, Ellen Douglas and her father have sought refuge in the place known as Goblin’s Cave. As Roderick Dhu leads his warriors towards battle, he stops and hears Ellen praying in the distance, accompanied by Allan-bane’s harp.
Adam Storck published his German translation of the poem in 1819. His version does not always follow Scott word for word, but it preserves the narrative core and the prayer’s three stanzas. Schubert set the German text, yet designed the edition so that Scott’s English original could also be sung. This was no simple adjustment: differences in syllable count and verbal stress had to be accommodated within the same melodic line.
Knowing the scene fundamentally changes the listening experience. The song ceases to be an abstract prayer suspended outside time. Every image acquires a place and a danger: the rock is the fugitives’ actual bed, the cave their temporary refuge, and the final mention of the father reveals the human stakes concealed beneath the devotional stillness.
A harp hidden inside the piano
In Scott’s scene, Ellen is accompanied by the harper Allan-bane. Schubert wrote the Lied for piano, yet its keyboard texture can reasonably be heard as a poetic memory of the harp. Broken chords rise and fall on every beat, while short low octaves support the harmony without weighing down the flow. The pattern’s consistency creates a field of sound within which the voice can move freely.
The accompaniment demands far greater care than its repetitive appearance suggests. If the sextuplets become mechanical, the music loses its breath; if the pedal blurs the chromatic changes, its harmonic sensitivity disappears. The pianist must preserve evenness while giving each arpeggiation direction, following the syntax of the poem and the breathing of the voice.
The singer, in turn, faces a line that sounds natural but requires considerable economy of breath, sustained legato, and attentive diction. The melodic range is restrained—approximately one octave, from F4 to F5 in the original key—and the expressive challenge lies principally in the span of the phrases, the fine grading of tone, and the ability to give each stanza a distinct meaning without outward excess.
From Ellens Gesang III to the world’s “Ave Maria”
The recurring words “Ave Maria” made it easier for the melody to be adapted later to the full Latin text of the Catholic prayer. As the Latin version spread through churches, ceremonies, recordings, and films, the original title and literary source receded from view. For many listeners, the work became self-evidently sacred music, while Ellen vanished behind a universal image of the Virgin.
This change is more than a case of mistaken naming. It is a striking example of reception rewriting a work’s identity. Schubert’s music genuinely possesses the serenity, recurrence, and luminous close that allow it to function as prayer beyond Scott’s poem. The original version nevertheless discloses another dimension: devotion grows from a dramatic situation and remains bound to fear, exile, and a child’s love for her father.
The work has inspired countless arrangements for solo piano, strings, harp, organ, choir, and orchestra. Among the most celebrated are Franz Liszt’s piano transcriptions, which transfer both vocal line and accompaniment to a single instrument within a denser, more virtuosic texture. The later orchestral versions are not by Schubert. The composition’s essential core remains the delicate relationship between one voice and one piano.
💡 Musical Insight
In the summer of 1825, Schubert was far from Vienna. He travelled with Vogl through the towns, monasteries, and welcoming houses of Upper Austria, making music wherever they found willing listeners. The new songs from The Lady of the Lake opened doors and drew warm responses. One reaction surprised him in particular: listeners heard in “Ave Maria” a devotion they had not expected from the sociable, cheerful Schubert.
A few days later, in Steyr, the composer sat down to write a long letter to his father and stepmother. He told them about the journey, the success of the Scott songs, and plans for an English edition. Then he lingered over that curious response from his audiences: everyone had marvelled, he wrote, at the piety he had expressed in the hymn to the Virgin.
His explanation was simple and almost confessional. He never forced himself into a devotional state, nor did he compose prayers of this kind unless the feeling overtook him unexpectedly. Only then, he believed, could devotion be genuine.
The letter cannot resolve every question about Schubert’s religious life. It does preserve a small human moment: the composer hearing others recognise something in his music that he had never set out to display. The song that would later travel so far from Ellen and her cave began its early life with this surprise—that a personal prayer born within a dramatic scene could turn an entire room towards silence.
🎧 Listening Guide
Listen first to the piano alone. In the two introductory bars, notice the sextuplet figure repeated on every beat and the small gap at its beginning. The flow seems continuous, yet each wave starts with an almost imperceptible breath.
Follow the first curve of “Ave Maria.” The voice begins quietly, rises, and remains suspended above the accompaniment for a moment. This phrase will return at the opening and close of every stanza.
Notice the chromatic shadows. Although B-flat major remains the stable centre, altered notes and brief attractions towards minor regions create an undercurrent of unease.
Recognise the climax of each stanza. The appeal to the Virgin or Mother carries the voice higher, while the piano makes a brief fortepiano accent and immediately withdraws into a very soft dynamic.
Compare the three returns. The music remains the same while the words change: first fear, then protection, and finally a prayer for the father. Listen for the ways a performer varies the colour without disturbing the strophic stability.
Stay with the piano postlude. After the last “Ave Maria,” the voice does not return. The piano continues alone, allowing serenity to reach completion without words.
🎶 Further Listening
These performances illuminate three different lives of the work: the original Lied, the historic art of the recital, and the later Latin tradition.
Barbara Bonney — Geoffrey Parsons (1994): The original German version for voice and piano is shaped with lucid diction, unforced legato, and a finely judged balance between singer and accompaniment. An ideal point of reference for the song in its original form.
Marian Anderson — Franz Rupp, Farewell Recital at Constitution Hall (1964): Anderson’s deep timbre and calm, rigorous control of the phrase give the prayer unusual gravity. This historic live recording also preserves the distinctive silence of a farewell evening.
Luciano Pavarotti — Zubin Mehta, The Three Tenors, Los Angeles (1994): The Latin version with orchestra leaves the intimate world of the Lied and projects the melody as a public hymn. Comparing it with Bonney’s performance reveals how profoundly the work’s cultural identity has changed.
📚 Further Reading
A fuller understanding of Ellens Gesang III brings together Schubert’s biography, the history of the Lied, and the song’s literary source.
Otto Erich Deutsch — Schubert: A Documentary Biography. The foundational collection of documents relating to the composer’s life. It includes Schubert’s July 1825 letter to his father and stepmother, in which he describes the success of the Scott songs and reflects on his own relationship with devotion.
Graham Johnson — Franz Schubert: The Complete Songs. A monumental three-volume study of Schubert’s complete song repertoire, with particular attention to poetic context, vocal demands, and interpretive choices.
Richard Wigmore — Schubert: The Complete Song Texts. A valuable collection of the poetic texts and their English translations, especially useful for comparing Storck’s German version with Scott’s original.
Lorraine Byrne Bodley — Schubert: A Musical Wayfarer. A modern biographical synthesis that places Schubert’s creative work, travels, friendships, and publishing ambitions within the wider cultural world of his time.
🔗 Related Works
The following works are connected with Ellens Gesang III through its literary source, Marian subject, or the melody’s later history.
Franz Schubert — Ellens Gesang I, D 837: Ellen’s first song in Schubert’s Scott collection. Its hypnotic atmosphere and pianistic evocation of the harp illuminate the heroine’s character before her final prayer.
Franz Liszt — Ave Maria (Ellens Gesang III), S 558 No. 12: The celebrated solo-piano transcription transfers both voice and accompaniment to one instrument, revealing how the nineteenth century transformed the Lied into a concert emblem.
Charles Gounod — Ave Maria, CG 89a, based on Bach’s Prelude No. 1: An entirely different compositional path towards the same Latin text, in which a newly written vocal melody is placed above an existing harmonic foundation.
Anton Bruckner — Ave Maria, WAB 6: This seven-part choral motet approaches the prayer through collective voice, polyphony, and powerful dynamic contrasts.
Johannes Brahms — Geistliches Wiegenlied, Op. 91 No. 2: The Virgin appears here as a mother singing her child to sleep. Viola, voice, and piano create an intimate sacred space closely related to the tenderness of Schubert’s Lied.
🎼 Closing Reflection
Ellen’s prayer does not ask for the night to disappear; it asks for the strength to pass through it. Perhaps this is why Schubert’s melody has survived so many transformations: it returns again and again to the same place, until fear itself makes room for peace.
📖 References & Sources
Research for this article drew on the critical score and first printed edition, primary texts by Walter Scott, Adam Storck, and Schubert himself, and modern studies of the Lied, the composer’s biography, and the work’s source history. Particular care was taken to distinguish the original German song from its later Latin and orchestrated forms.
Scores
Schubert, Franz. Ellens Gesang III (Hymne an die Jungfrau), D 839, Op. 52 No. 6. In Lieder 3, edited by Walther Dürr. Neue Schubert-Ausgabe, Series IV, Vols. 3a–b. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1982.
Schubert, Franz. Sieben Gesänge aus Walter Scotts Fräulein vom See, Op. 52, No. 6: Hymne an die Jungfrau. Vienna: Matthias Artaria, 1826, plate 814.
Primary Sources
Scott, Walter. The Lady of the Lake: A Poem. Edinburgh: John Ballantyne and Co., 1810.
Storck, Adam. Das Fräulein vom See: Ein Gedicht in sechs Gesängen von Walter Scott. Essen: G. D. Baedeker, 1819.
Schubert, Franz. Letter to his father and stepmother, Steyr, 25 July 1825. In Otto Erich Deutsch, Schubert: A Documentary Biography, translated by Eric Blom. London: J. M. Dent, 1946.
Secondary Sources
Bodley, Lorraine Byrne. Schubert: A Musical Wayfarer. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2023.
Deutsch, Otto Erich. Schubert: A Documentary Biography. Translated by Eric Blom. London: J. M. Dent, 1946.
Gibbs, Christopher H. The Life of Schubert. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.
Johnson, Graham. Franz Schubert: The Complete Songs. 3 vols. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014.
Newbould, Brian. Schubert: The Music and the Man. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997.
Wigmore, Richard. Schubert: The Complete Song Texts. London: Victor Gollancz, 1988.
Digital Resources
Neue Schubert-Ausgabe. Catalogue of the critical edition and documentation for Series IV: Lieder.
Schubert Online. Digital archive of Franz Schubert manuscripts, first editions, and historical documents.
Oxford Song. Ellens Gesang III: German text and English translation.
International Music Score Library Project. Ave Maria, D 839: scores in the original key and historical editions.
