6984 lines
199 KiB
Plaintext
6984 lines
199 KiB
Plaintext
BEING THE FIRST SECTION OF THE ALPHABETIZED VERSION OF
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THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY
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***************************************************************
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*
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ACUSHLA
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-Ioseph of Locksley
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(c) 1990 W.J. Bethancourt III
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(Tune: "When You And I Were Young")
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To Cherie Ruadh MhicRath of Locksley
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I have wandered today to the hills, Acushla,
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To watch the scene below
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The pavilions and flags, and the songs, Acushla,
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That we started long, long ago!
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I see a true living Dream, Acushla,
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The past come alive once again.
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I see a life that we've made, Acushla,
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Did we see this at all, when we began?
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They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,
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As dated as the songs we have sung;
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But to me you're as fair as you were, Acushla,
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When you and I were young!
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I see the child that we raised, Acushla,
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In the Lists for his fair Lady Maid;
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He will sit on a Throne someday soon, Acushla,
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With eyes shining and unafraid!
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Through hard times and good times and sad, Acushla,
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We stood by the Dream that we knew;
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And we did the best that we could, Acushla,
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And watched as that little Dream grew!
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They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,
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As dated as the songs we have sung;
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But to me you're as fair as you were, Acushla,
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When the SCA was young!
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*
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and fondly dedicated, also, to Count Sir Stephan of Bellatrix!
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ya did good, kiddo!
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2
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*
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THE AGINCOURT CAROLE
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-Traditional
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(rendered to modern English by Ioseph of Locksley)
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Our king went forth to Normandy
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With grace and might of chivalry
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There God for him wrought marvelously
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Wherefore England may call and cry: Deo gratias:
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Deo gratias Anglia redde pro victoria!
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He set a siege, the truth to say
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To Harfleur town with royal array;
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That town he won, and made a fray
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That France shall rue til Doom(e)sday. Deo gratias....
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Then went our king with all his host
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Through France, for all the Frenchmen's boast;
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He spared no dread of least nor most
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Til he came to Agincourt coast. Deo gratias....
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Then, forsooth, that knight comely,
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In Agincourt field he fought manly;
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Through grace of God most mighty
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He had both field and victory. Deo gratias....
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There duke and earl, lord and baron
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Were taken and slain, and that well soon,
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And some were led into London
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With joy and mirth and great renown: Deo gratias....
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May gracious God He keep our king,
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His people that are well willing
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And give him grace without ending
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Then we may call and safely sing: Deo gratias....
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*
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Note: This may also be sung to "The Banana Boat
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Song" as:
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Our king went forth to Normandy
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Deo gratias Anglia!
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With grace and might of chivalry
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Deo gratias Anglia!
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There God for him wrought marvelously
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Deo gratias Anglia!
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Wherefore England may call and cry:
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Deo gratias Anglia!
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CHORUS: Deo! Deo! Deo gratias Anglia!
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...but beware, you might seriously offend the
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Authenticity Police......heheheheh!
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*
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3
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*
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A GRAZING MACE
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-Anonymous
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tune: "Amazing Grace"
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verses 1-5 by Skald-Brandr Toralfsson
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verse 6 is the original anonymous creation
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verse 7 from the HOPSFA Hymnal 3rd Edition
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A grazing mace, how sweet the sound, that felled my foe for me
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I bashed his head, he struck the ground, and thus came victory
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My mace has taught my foes to fear, that mace my fear relieved
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How precious did my mace appear, when I my mace received
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Through many tourneys wars and fairs, I have already come
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My mace has brought me safe thus far, my mace will bring me home
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The King has promised good to me, his word my hope secures
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I will his shield and weapon be, when he gives me my spurs
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And when my mace my foeman nails, that mortal strife shall cease
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And we'll possess within our pale, a life of joy and peace
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A grazing mace, how sweet the sound that flattened a wretch like thee!
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whose head is flat, that once was round; done in by my mace....and me!
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A grazing mace, how sweet the sound that smites a foe like thee
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You're left there lying on the ground, you've left the field to me!
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*
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4
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*
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THE ALCOHOLIC'S ANTHEM
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-Christchurch NZ University Revue
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tune: "Men Of Harlech"
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What's the use of drinking tea
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indulging in sobriety?
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(and) tee-total perversity?
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It's healthier to booze!
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What's the use of milk and water?
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these are drinks that never oughter
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be allowed in any quarter
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Come on, lose your Blues!
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Mix yourself a Shandy!
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Drown yourself in brandy!
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A Sherry sweet, a Whiskey neat,
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or any kind of likker that is handy!
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There's no blinking sense in drinking
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any thing that doesn't make you stinking
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There's no happiness like sinking
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blotto to the floor!
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Put an end to all frustration
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drinking may be your salvation
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end it all in dissapation
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rotten to the core!
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Abberations metabolic
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Ceilings that are hyperbolic
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these are for the Alcoholic
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lying on the floor!
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Vodka for the arty
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Gin, to make you hearty!
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Lemonade was only made
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for drinking if your mother's at the party!
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So stay clear of home-made beer
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and anything that isn't labeled "clear"
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There is nothing else to fear!
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Bottoms up, my boys!
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*
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5
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*
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ALL AROUND MY HAT
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-Traditional
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CHORUS: All around my hat, I will wear the green willow
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And all around my hat, for a twelve-month and a day!
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And if any one will ask me the reason why I'm wearin' it
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It's all for my true love who is far, far away!
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Fare thee well, cold Winter, and fare thee well cold Frost
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It's nothing I have gained but my own true love I've lost
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I'll sing and I'll be merry, when occasion I do see
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She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
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My love she was fair, and my love she was kind, too
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And many were the happy hours between my love and me
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I never could refuse her, whatever she'd a mind to
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She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
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The other night I brought her a fine diamond ring
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But she tried to deprive me of a far better thing
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I never could refuse her, whatever she'd a mind to
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She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
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Will my love be true, and will my love be faithful?
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Will she find another young man, to court her when I'm gone?
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The men will all come court her, so pretty and so graceful
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She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
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It's a quarter pound of Reason, and a half a pound of Sense
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A small sprig of Time, and as much of Prudence,
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You mix them all together, and you will plainly see
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She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
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(Note: This version is a composite of lyrics sung by Steeleye Span
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and those found in "Folksongs And Ballads of Ireland" Vol. 2,
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from Ossian Publications.
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*
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6
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*
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ALL THRU THE NIGHT
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While the Moon her watch is keeping
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all thru the night
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While the weary world is sleeping
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all thru the night
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O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
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Visions of delight revealing
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Breathes a pure and holy feeling
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all thru the night
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Though this Bard must roam full lonely
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My true harp shall sing praise only
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Love's soft dream, alas, is over
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Yet my strains of love shall hover
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Near the Presence of my Lover
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Hark! A solemn bell is ringing
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Thou, my King are heavenward winging
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Earthly dust from off Thee shaken
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Soul immortal shalt thou waken
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With thy last, dim journey taken
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Neath this Stone my King is sleeping
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Stars around Him softly sweeping
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Once and Future King preserving
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Britain's Saviour there reserving
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All around him Stars observing
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all thru the night
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Holl am ran-tire sehr thuh wed-ont
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ahr heed ah nos
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Dum-ar forth ee vro go-gawn-yont
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ahr heed ah nos
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Gol-i ar-all you tuh wull ooch
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ee are thang os gweer bred vairtch-ooch
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tie-leer nave oith m'yoon thu-wail-ooch
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ahr heed ah nos
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note: The last verse is phonetic Welsh.
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"ll" is pronounced by putting the tip of your
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tongue to the roof of your mouth, and saying "h"
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and "l" at the same time...sort of.
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"ch" is pronounced as German.
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*
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7
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*
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THE ANACHRONISTIC LOVER
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Author unknown (orig. SCA East Kingdom?)
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(tune: "The Frozen Logger")
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As I sat down one evening he'd just drive them in with a war-mace
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'twas in a wayside Inn and then bite them off inside
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a forty year old barmaid came
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and whispered by my chin He never shaved a whisker
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until his helm was full
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I see that you're an Anachronist and the device upon his shield
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and not just some modern jerk bespoke a wild bull
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for no one but an Anachronist
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stirs coffee with a Dirk He vowed to me one evening
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no maidens were my peers
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I once loved an Anachronist he went off to prove his point
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there's none like him today and he's been gone TEN YEARS...!
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he kissed me in a haystack once
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and burned up all the hay and so I lost my lover
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and in this Inn I work
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he never shaved a whisker and sit and wait for someone
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from off his horny hide to stir coffee with a Dirk....
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*
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8
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*
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ANNA THEA
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-Anonymous (PD)
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tune: Lydia Wood
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recorded by Judy Collins
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Lazlo Thea stole a stallion
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Stole him from the Misty Mountain
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And they chased him, and they caught him
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And in iron chains they bound him.
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Word was brought to Anna Thea
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That her brother was in prison
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"Give me gold and six white horses
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I will buy my brother's freedom."
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"Judge, Oh Judge please spare my brother
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I will give you gold and silver!"
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"I don't want your gold and silver;
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All I want are your sweet favours!"
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"Anna Thea, Oh my sister!
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Are you mad with grief and sorrow?
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He will rob you of your Flower,
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And he'll hang me from the gallows!"
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Anna Thea did not heed him;
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Straightway to the Judge went running.
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In his golden bed, at midnight,
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There she heard the gallows groaning!
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Cursed be that Judge so cruel!
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Thirteen years shall he lie bleeding!
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Thirteen doctors shall not heal him!
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Thirteen shelves of drugs won't save him!
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Anna Thea, Anna Thea!
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Don't go out into the forest!
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There, among the green pines standing,
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You will find your brother....hanging.
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*
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9
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*
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THE ATENVELDT INVASION
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-Ioseph of Locksley
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(Tune: "Young Folks, Old Folks")
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(c) 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
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CHORUS: Young folks, old folks, every man and each
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Come see the Atenveldter, landed on the beach!
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He's not wearing any clothes, and covered all with hair
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And worse than that, he isn't wearing any underwear!
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Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far away
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A ship was wrecked in Calafia's bay
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It sank right down, men and mast and sail
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And only the ship's monkey lived to tell the tale!
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The monkey came ashore and wandered all around
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Wandered thru the valleys, wandered thru the town
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Then it came to a revel hall more dead than alive
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And the Caidan's thought an invasion had arrived!
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CHORUS
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The crowd screamed and scrambled, caught by surprise
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Climbing the curtains, putting pillows o'er their eyes
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Cried a willowy Laurel, with a cry that was heart-felt:
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"He's big and strong and hairy, he must be from Atenveldt!"
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"He's not wearing any clothes, whatever can it mean?"
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"It's the rudest thing that I have ever seen!"
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A Duchess said to the Kingdom Castellan:
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"You can tell he's not Caidan: No Elizabeth-i-ans!" //Humpf!//
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CHORUS
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The whole crowd was terrified, petrified with fear,
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That the Atenveldt invasion finally was here.
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"God help the Kingdom!" "Save us from this fate!"
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"Run away and hide ourselves before it is too late!"
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The monkey saw the revel feast and jumped for the food
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With no table manners; he was really rather rude!
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The crowd gasped with horror at the awful sight:
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"He eats with both hands! He's an Atenveldter Knight!"
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CHORUS
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The monkey ambled 'round, all tired, stiff and sore;
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All the Caidans scrambled for the door!
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The politics got heavy and the rumor spread around
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"The Atenveldter's gonna be a-fighting for the Crown!"
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But then the revel hall got quiet as could be
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When up cried the Seneshal, "Can't you plainly see?"
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"Hide your wives and daughters and prepare for fire and sword!"
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"It's not an Atenveldter, it's a member of the Horde!" //Eek!//
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CHORUS (twice)
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*
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10
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*
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ATEN MAN
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-Ioseph of Locksley
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(c) copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
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(Tune: "Irish Soldier Laddie")
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CHORUS: Will you stand in the van like a true Aten man
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And hold the line for Kingdom and for Crown?
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Will you fight and never yield on Estrella's battlefield?
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For today's the day we're takin' Caid down!
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As I stood in a crowd I saw a valiant laddie walkin'
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With his armour and his sword down a quiet country lane
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He smiled and he waved and he bespoke me truly
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He beckoned and he called to me by name:
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On a quiet village street stood a bowman strong and hearty
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As he bade a fond farewell to his pretty peasant lass
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And his eyes were flashin' bright as he bent his head and kissed her
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And these words he said beneath the partin' glass:
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Came a knight upon his steed, with his squires ridin' after
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With his pennon and his lance and his shinin' silver mail
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With his Lady's Favour hangin' from his belt of leather
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And passin' close he smiled and bade me "Hail!"
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In a sunny castle hall, with her minstrels and her maidens,
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Stood a Lady, strong and proud, with a fire in her eyes
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"If my King is off to war, what can I but fight beside him?"
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She raised her sword, and shouted to the skies:
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From city and from township, from Barony and Marches
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Come the men of Aten's land with a fire in their eyes
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Atenveldt and Ysgithr, Mons Tinitrus and SunDragon,
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And a hundred thousand others 'neath the sky!
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*
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11
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*
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ATENVELDT
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-Ioseph of Locksley
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(c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
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(Tune: "The West's Awake"
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For all the Lands where I have dwelt
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Oh Atenveldt, Oh Atenveldt
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till rivers burn and mountains melt
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lest I forget my Atenveldt
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From deserts stark to snow-capped peaks
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from silent lakes and laughing creeks
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sing: Oh let man find his heart's ease
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on rocky plains
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in desert breeze
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For oft I thought of mighty men
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who carved a Land with sword and pen
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and lit a candle, burning bright,
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that pierced the darkness; stirred the night!
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tho some are gone their deeds remain
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this sunny Crown without a stain
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sing: Oh, their deeds were not in vain!
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in sunlit days
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and falling rain.....
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So raise your banners, blazoned bright
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Advance the Dream and Shine the Light!
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in battle's crash and Revel's song
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raise high the Flag and wave it long!
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For all the Lands wherein I've dwelt
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I love you best, my Atenveldt!
|
||
Sing: Oh the Joy that I have felt!
|
||
My Atenveldt
|
||
My Atenveldt
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
12
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE BALLAD OF THE THREE KINGS
|
||
-Sir Bela of Eastmarch
|
||
copyright 1980 Poul Anderson
|
||
|
||
Three Kings rode out on the road to Hell
|
||
ravens flew on the gale
|
||
the night wind rang like an iron bell
|
||
and hissed with sleet and hail
|
||
three Kings rode out thru the Gates of Hell
|
||
and on to Death's Highway
|
||
the King of the Britons
|
||
the King of the Huns
|
||
and the King of Nor-o-way!
|
||
|
||
And the King of the Britons was helmed with gold
|
||
and rode a stallion white
|
||
"Oh all men go when they are cold
|
||
but I go not in fright!
|
||
A goodly King who loved his Folk
|
||
and guarded them with the rod....
|
||
and stake...and gallows....against themselves
|
||
will surely go to God!"
|
||
|
||
And the King of the Huns was helmed in steel
|
||
and rode a stallion red
|
||
"Oh fiercely proud my fathers feel
|
||
of me, who crowned my head
|
||
halfway round a world in pain,
|
||
which I did mightily win
|
||
and surely I go to my Father's Fane
|
||
and not to the evil Djinn!"
|
||
|
||
And the King of Norway was helmed with wings
|
||
and rode a stallion grey
|
||
"Truly proud my heart now feels
|
||
Odin gets me today!
|
||
I died in bed, ah, but first I hung
|
||
full many a squealing thrall
|
||
from Odin's Tree. With Rune on tongue
|
||
I go now to Odin's Hall!"
|
||
|
||
Three Kings rode out thru the depths of Hell
|
||
with a bloody-breasted Hound
|
||
that howls above black rivers that run
|
||
icy beneath the ground
|
||
Three Kings a Final Judgement won
|
||
from the High God's lips that day:
|
||
The Devil took the Briton,
|
||
the Djinni took the Hun,
|
||
and Hell took Nor-o-way!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
13
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE BARD'S SONG
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(c) copyright 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
|
||
(Tune: "Dublin City")
|
||
|
||
As I walked out one quiet evening
|
||
At the hour of twelve at night
|
||
Who should I meet but a fair young maiden
|
||
Combin' her hair by candle light;
|
||
Lassie, I have come a-courtin'
|
||
Your kind favours for to win
|
||
And if you'd heed my petition
|
||
I would be your Paladin...
|
||
|
||
(CHORUS) Gather roses in the Springtime
|
||
Gather roses while ye may,
|
||
Time is passing; roses wither;
|
||
Winter comes; we're here -today-.
|
||
|
||
Have you seen the dew a-formin'
|
||
On the grass at early morn?
|
||
Have you seen the forest quiet,
|
||
Or a stag that's barely born?
|
||
Have you seen the dawn a-breakin'
|
||
O'er the Western Ocean's tide?
|
||
Have you felt my heart a-beatin'
|
||
When it's held close to your side?
|
||
|
||
I can give no gold or silver,
|
||
I can give no fields of land,
|
||
I can give no servants brisk
|
||
To wait on you both foot and hand;
|
||
I can give you wide roads callin'
|
||
Wind and Rain, and Moon and Sun,
|
||
Songs to sing, and love and laughter,
|
||
Dresses made of plain home-spun.
|
||
|
||
Come dance with me upon the greensward
|
||
in the moonlight, in the Spring.
|
||
Dance with me within the forest
|
||
Dance with me within the ring!
|
||
Earth below us, stars above us,
|
||
Fire and water by our side,
|
||
Dance with me within the moonlight,
|
||
Dance with me, and be my Bride!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
14
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
BEATIE, BEATIE, BEAT!
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(c) copyright 1978 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
||
Gunwald advances, Johann retreats (3X)
|
||
but no one's going beatie beatie beat
|
||
|
||
(Chorus): Now they are going beatie beatie beat! (3X)
|
||
And which will be the last upon his feet?
|
||
|
||
Gunwald advances, Johann retreats
|
||
Johann advances, Gunwald retreats
|
||
Gunwald advances...Gunwald retreats?
|
||
But no one's going beatie beatie beat!
|
||
|
||
Now they are going beatie beatie beat! (3X)
|
||
And Johann's just so much dead meat!
|
||
|
||
(Written, off the cuff, as a sung description of a combat in Crown
|
||
Lists....written as it happened, while it happened.)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
15
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
BIG AXE
|
||
-Ragnar Morkwulf
|
||
-last two verses: Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
tune: "Big Iron" (Marty Robbins)
|
||
"Ghost Riders In The Sky"
|
||
|
||
To the land of Ansteorra sailed a Viking one fine day
|
||
He rowed right up the river to Bjornsberg, so they say
|
||
No one dared to ask the reason why he came into this land
|
||
For the Viking there among them had a Big Axe in his hand.
|
||
|
||
It was halfway to September when he swaggered into town
|
||
He came striding from the Southside, slowly looking all around
|
||
"He's a Viking out for plunder!" came the whisper from each man
|
||
"And he's here to do some mischief with that Big Axe in his hand!"
|
||
|
||
Now in this town there was a Norman, by the name of Jean-Eclair
|
||
He was foppish, and a dandy, and wore perfume in his hair!
|
||
But he was somewhat more than vicious with the rapier at his side
|
||
And the many men who faced him were the many men who died.
|
||
|
||
Now the Norman's skill at wenching was a scandal in the land
|
||
and a milkmaid (or a Duchess) were like putty in his hand
|
||
He would use them for his pleasure and then send them home in shame
|
||
And their menfolk greatly trembled at the mention of his name.
|
||
|
||
Now the Viking started talking, made it plain to folks around
|
||
That he'd come to wreak his vengance on the Norman in the town
|
||
Jean-Eclair had bed his sister, and no bride-price had he paid
|
||
And he'd sent her back to Norway slightly after she'd been laid....
|
||
|
||
The Norman merely chuckled when this story he did hear
|
||
He sharpened up his rapier - threw down another beer
|
||
Forty vengance-seeking brothers he had slain - unto the man!
|
||
forty-one would be this Viking with the Big Axe in his hand...
|
||
|
||
The morning passed by quickly, then 'twas time for them to meet
|
||
Wearing puffs and slashes, Jean-Eclair stood in the street
|
||
The Viking, dressed in leather, and with furs upon his frame
|
||
Was the object of the snobbish Norman's obvious disdain
|
||
|
||
"I remember now your sister," said the Norman with a smile
|
||
"You have similar taste in fashion, and no sense at all of style.
|
||
I would rather slay your tailor, but I'll kill you where you stand
|
||
You won't even have a chance to use that Big Axe in your hand!"
|
||
|
||
"I sailed all da vay vrom Norway," said the Viking with a sneer
|
||
"Not to enter fashion shows; for you would win, I fear.
|
||
I come here to find a dog, whose blood I vowed to spill
|
||
But it pleases me to see that you are dressed so - for to kill!"
|
||
|
||
Jean-Eclair glared at the Northman with a face turned scarlet-red
|
||
His honour would not let him rest till Viking blood was shed
|
||
Townsfolk watched them from the windows - everybody held their breath
|
||
They knew this tacky Viking was a hand away from Death.
|
||
|
||
(more)
|
||
|
||
16
|
||
Big Axe (Cont.)
|
||
|
||
The Norman started forward, shining Murder in his hand,
|
||
The Mistrels say the battle was the swiftest in the land
|
||
Rapier'd barely cleared it's scabbard when the Axe came crashing down
|
||
And the Norman toppled over, with the Big Axe for a Crown...
|
||
|
||
It was over in a moment, and the folks all gathered round
|
||
There before them lay the body of the Norman on the ground
|
||
He had planned to go on living - never thought of lying dead
|
||
But it's kinda hard to think when there's a Big Axe in your head!
|
||
|
||
But then the fop took off his hat, and grinned, and softly said
|
||
"Beneath these plumes I wear an iron cap upon my head!"
|
||
And with an evil grin he pulled a pistol with a sigh
|
||
And shot the great big Northman square between his beady eyes!
|
||
|
||
So remember all you armoured folk, and think upon it well:
|
||
There's lots of different ways to die; there's different ways to hell
|
||
You might be big and hairy, on the side of Truth and all
|
||
God makes Norsemen big and strong: Friar Bacon makes 'em small!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
BORED IN THE SCA!
|
||
-various Marklanders
|
||
-tune: "Born in the USA"
|
||
|
||
BORED in the SCA!
|
||
Oh, I'm a LORD in the SCA!
|
||
|
||
I use "Prince Valiant" for historical sources!
|
||
I'm a knight, but where are the horses?!
|
||
Bright colors and panty hose!
|
||
Polyester from my head to my toes!
|
||
|
||
Oh, I am BORED in the SCA!
|
||
Yes, I am BORED in the SCA!
|
||
|
||
Over there's a Samurai, I think,
|
||
Must because of the fishy stink!
|
||
I'm a King in Fantasyland,
|
||
Don't fight with steel, I use bare rattan!
|
||
|
||
Oh, I am BORED in the SCA!
|
||
Joined the HORDE in the SCA!
|
||
|
||
Now I can rape and pillage and burn
|
||
Goon the jerks that never learn!
|
||
Looks like ( insert name of choice ) is here!
|
||
Hide the chickens, and dogs and beer!
|
||
|
||
I was BORED in the SCA!
|
||
I was BORED in the SCA!
|
||
Joined the HORDE in the SCA!
|
||
Joined the HORDE in the SCA!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
17
|
||
BOLD SIR ROBIN
|
||
-Monty Python
|
||
|
||
"Bravely bold Sir Robin
|
||
Brought forth from Camelot
|
||
He was not afraid to die
|
||
Brave, bold Sir Robin
|
||
He was not at all afraid
|
||
To be killed in nasty ways
|
||
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin....
|
||
|
||
He was not in the least bit scared
|
||
To be mashed into a pulp
|
||
Or to have his eyes gouged out
|
||
And his elbows broken
|
||
To have his kneecaps split
|
||
And his body burned away
|
||
And his limbs all hacked and mangled
|
||
Brave Sir Robin.....
|
||
|
||
His head smashed in and his heart cut out
|
||
And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged
|
||
And his nostrils raped and his bottom burnt up
|
||
And his penis ....."
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
BUGS ON THE BARONESS
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
(Tune: Waltzing Matilda)
|
||
|
||
or: Who was that Vermin I saw you with last, Knight?
|
||
or: There may be Lice on all you Knice, but there ain't no Lice on me
|
||
|
||
Once there was a Barony howling in the wilderness
|
||
nestled in the Valley where the River doesn't flow
|
||
and the folks were driven buggy by the insects in the Revel Hall
|
||
Authenticity is wonderful, but this doesn't go!
|
||
|
||
Bugs on the Baroness, bugs on the Baroness!
|
||
That was the cry that you heard all the day
|
||
and the scratching can be heard from Ysgithr to Ered Sul
|
||
why did we come here? Let's go away!
|
||
|
||
See them all a scratching, nestled in their armour tight
|
||
the fleas have a melee team that's challenging the field!
|
||
call Truly Nolen! Someone's gotta help us out!
|
||
the crabs are nesting in our helms but we'll never yield!
|
||
|
||
(chorus)
|
||
|
||
Dawn comes a-breaking, the bugs have won the Coronet...
|
||
flea-infested Conan-clones in piles upon the lawn
|
||
where is the Barony? The bugs have eaten everyone...
|
||
termites got the stick-jocks, and all their sticks are gone!
|
||
|
||
(chorus)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
18
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
BURGUNDIAN CAROL
|
||
-Bernard La Monnonye (ca. 1650)
|
||
English translation by Oscar Brand
|
||
|
||
Dm E7 A
|
||
The Winter season of the year when to this world Our Lord was born
|
||
|
||
F C G7 C F Dm A7 Dm
|
||
The ox and donkey, so they say, did keep His Holy Presence warm.
|
||
|
||
A7 Dm A7 Dm C F A7 Dm A7 Dm Gm A7 Dm
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys, now, if they were there when first He came,
|
||
|
||
A7 Dm A7 Dm G A Dm Gm A7 Dm
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys you know, at such a time would do the same?
|
||
|
||
And on that night it has been told
|
||
These humble beasts so rough and rude,
|
||
Throughout the night of Holy Birth,
|
||
Drank no water, ate no food.
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys, now,
|
||
If they were there, when first He came,
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys you know
|
||
At such a time would do the same?
|
||
|
||
As soon as to these humble beasts
|
||
Appeared Our Lord, so mild and sweet,
|
||
With joy they knelt before His Grace,
|
||
And gently kissed his tiny feet.
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys now,
|
||
Dressed in ermine, silk and such,
|
||
How many oxen and donkeys you know
|
||
At such a time would do as much?
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
19
|
||
A CALLING-ON SONG
|
||
recorded by Steeleye Span
|
||
"Below the Salt"
|
||
revised by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
Good people, pray heed my petition
|
||
Your attention I beg and I crave
|
||
for if you are inclined for to listen
|
||
An abundance of pastime will have
|
||
|
||
I am come to relate many stories
|
||
Concerning our Forefather's Time
|
||
And I trust they will drive out your worries
|
||
Of this we are all in one mind
|
||
|
||
Many tales of the poor and the gentry
|
||
Of labour and love will arise
|
||
There are no finer songs in this country
|
||
In East, West or Middle likewise
|
||
|
||
There is one thing more needing mention
|
||
The dances are danced all in fun
|
||
So, now that you've heard my intention
|
||
I'll lay on to the beat of the Drum!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
CAMBRIAN DREAM
|
||
-Gwydion PenDerwyn
|
||
copyright probably to Nemeton
|
||
|
||
In the mountains of Cambria, by Rhymney's bright stream
|
||
I have oft slept in heather, and dreamed a bright Dream
|
||
No mortal could wake me, nor see what I've seen
|
||
No landscape could ever compare.
|
||
|
||
'Twas the Land of my Fathers, unfettered, and free
|
||
Ere the time that the Saxon swept over the Sea
|
||
When mistletoe grew 'neath the shining Oak Tree
|
||
No landscape could ever compare!
|
||
|
||
(Chorus): Dreaming of Prydein, asleep on a hill
|
||
When I awaken, will you be there still?
|
||
Oh, Island of Poets, my dreams you can fill
|
||
But never the long waking hours.
|
||
|
||
Mighty Poets and Warriors traversed every road
|
||
Leaving stories and legends wherever they strode
|
||
Their pasts are recalled in the humblest abode
|
||
In tales of the sunnier days.
|
||
|
||
(Chorus)
|
||
|
||
Now my story is ended, my song is all gone
|
||
I have slept thru the evening, and into the dawn
|
||
Yet still, I remember your Face, Albion,
|
||
And your older, and much wiser ways!
|
||
|
||
(Chorus)
|
||
*
|
||
20
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE CATAPULT SONG
|
||
tune: "Tramp Tramp Tramp"
|
||
|
||
-Zoltan Kovacs
|
||
-Heinrich Palantin
|
||
-Su of the Silver Horn
|
||
-Christobal degli Gilicine
|
||
|
||
Oh they thought it was a joke when my catapult it broke
|
||
And they said it would not fire beyond the wall
|
||
So the Captain came to look, and I pulled the trigger hook
|
||
And my catapult it caught him in the jaw!
|
||
|
||
Flip, flip, flip, my Captain's flying
|
||
High up o'er the Norman camp!
|
||
Well, he landed with a thump
|
||
and he crumpled in a lump
|
||
with his head between his knees upon a stump!
|
||
|
||
Yippee yea, my catapult's working
|
||
Yippee yea, we'll have a ball!
|
||
Oh we'll load it up again
|
||
with another Cap-i-tain
|
||
and we'll fire the bloody bastard o'er the wall!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
21
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE CAUSES OF REBELLION: LIE, LIE TO THE COUNCIL
|
||
-Astra of the Grey Shadows
|
||
copyright 1974 Ann Cass
|
||
orig. tune: "Retreat Along The Wabash"
|
||
a period tune has been written by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
Tell the truth to a Lord you trust
|
||
MORE truth to a Lord you hate!
|
||
Lie to a Lady, if lie you must,
|
||
but since the Lords live far away
|
||
and will not heed what the people say:
|
||
Lie, Lie, Lie to the Council! Lie to the Heads of State!
|
||
|
||
Where the low hills sit by the foggy Bay
|
||
and the ground all shakes with fire
|
||
the High Lords sit in Council today
|
||
let them consider the Price they pay
|
||
for calling a man a liar!
|
||
|
||
With a title comes a certain power
|
||
and a much more certain schooling
|
||
a child may play in a castle tower
|
||
but the Lord who does soon sees the hour
|
||
He hasn't a Land worth ruling.
|
||
|
||
For there isn't a man but has his doubts
|
||
of the worth of those that rule him
|
||
but the good ones he will not turn out
|
||
unless he finds he's pushed about
|
||
or he thinks they're trying to fool him
|
||
|
||
there's many a man in the Lands of the East
|
||
and a few in the West and Middle
|
||
who hold a Lord sits LAST to Feast
|
||
thinks FIRST of his men, their Lands and beasts
|
||
and THEN of his Pride....a little.
|
||
|
||
Now, what a man says, and what a man does
|
||
are controlled by Laws and Reason;
|
||
but half the cause of all men's fights:
|
||
what one man calls his Natural Rights
|
||
another man may call Treason!
|
||
|
||
So take care all you who sit in State
|
||
take care when you come to judge
|
||
the cost of a word in anger is great
|
||
but greater still, in lasting Hate,
|
||
is the cost of holding a grudge!
|
||
|
||
So..tell the Truth to a Lord you trust,
|
||
MORE truth to a Lord you hate!
|
||
Lie to a Lady, if lie you must,
|
||
but since the Lords live far away
|
||
and will not heed what the people say...
|
||
|
||
LIE! LIE! LIE TO THE COUNCIL! LIE TO THE HEADS OF STATE!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
22
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III
|
||
recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE, WTP-0002
|
||
tune: "Same Old Man/Leatherwing Bat" (Trad. Appalachian)
|
||
|
||
|
||
Hi said the Norn, sittin in the sand
|
||
once I talked to a great Grey Man
|
||
spun three times and said with a sigh
|
||
hadn't been for the Runes had his other eye!
|
||
|
||
Chorus: hi diddle i diddle i day
|
||
hi diddle i diddle i diddle ay
|
||
hi di diddle i diddle i day
|
||
fol the dink a dum diddle do di day
|
||
|
||
Hi said the Lady, dressed in green The Circle forms, the Circle flows
|
||
prettiest thing I've ever seen the Circle goes where no man knows
|
||
she went down underneath the hill Hail to the Lady, one in three:
|
||
and came back out of her own free will Present is Past and Past is Me!
|
||
|
||
Brian Boru, on Irish ground Hi said the Lady dressed in white
|
||
walked three times the Island round sang the Day and sang the Night
|
||
Norsemen came lookin for a fight sang the Land and sang the Sea
|
||
just another Irish Saturday night! sang the Song, and then sang Me!
|
||
|
||
Hi said Lugh on the banquet night Salt and oil and mirror bright
|
||
a poet and a player and a good wheelwright fire and fleet and candlelight
|
||
a harper and a warrior and none the least: by fin and feather, leaf and tree,
|
||
a Druid and he got in to the Feast! fill the cup and blessed be!
|
||
|
||
Harold Haardrada's face was red! From the misty crystal sea
|
||
Came to Britain and he wound up dead Came the Lady to the lea
|
||
Stamford Bridge is where he's found Sword and Roses in Her Hand
|
||
got six feet of English ground Spread their seeds thruout the Land
|
||
|
||
the Legion with it's Eagles bright Came the Stag from oaken wood
|
||
marched into the Pictish night saw the Lady where she stood
|
||
met them there upon the sand by the fire burning bright
|
||
gave em up to the Wicker Man! came to know his heart's delight!
|
||
|
||
eight-legged steed and hound of Hel By Sword and Harp, and Irish Hound
|
||
the one-eyed Man, he loves ya well Blessed Be: the Day I've found
|
||
fire burn and fire spark Hail to the Lady, one in Three
|
||
are you then feared of the dark? Present is Past and Past is WE
|
||
|
||
Rhiannon's Birds are still in flight By Oak and Ash and Holy Thorn
|
||
all thru the Day all thru the Night Blessed be the Day you're born!
|
||
Hail to the Lady, one in Three Fire burn and fire bright
|
||
Present is Past and Past is Thee! walk in safety thru the night
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
23
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
CHAINMAIL MOMMA
|
||
-Moonwulf (Michael Langcor)
|
||
-Copyright Firebird Arts & Music
|
||
|
||
Gets up every morning, puts her armor on (3X)
|
||
You know you better not mess with her, or you'll be dead and gone!
|
||
|
||
She's my chainmail momma, and I'm her shield-munchin' man
|
||
With axe, sword or spear, she'll kill you any way she can!
|
||
|
||
Some women slither, and wiggle their shifty shanks
|
||
But when my baby walks with me, you know she rings and clanks!
|
||
|
||
She's my chainmail momma, dressed head to foot in steel
|
||
She's my chainmail momma, and she knows a dozen ways to kill!
|
||
|
||
She loves me day and night, she never lets me get no rest;
|
||
I've got that chainmail waffle-weave imprinted on my chest!
|
||
|
||
She's my chainmail momma, loves me anytime she can,
|
||
She's my chainmail momma, and I'm her shield-munchin' man!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
24
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE CHILDISH EDDA
|
||
-Bela of Eastmarch, KSCA
|
||
Ron Ellik
|
||
-tune: "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp"
|
||
|
||
|
||
Yggdrasil, where Nine Worlds clash, is a noble piece of ash
|
||
That shelters Norns and Gods and all that crew
|
||
There, a Dragon gnaws the base of an Eagle's resting place,
|
||
And four Harts, a Goat and Squirrel are there too!
|
||
|
||
Frigga took a year or so, and, except for mistletoe
|
||
Got from everything an Oath for Balder's good
|
||
Evil Loki wished him harm, so he hired Hodr's arm,
|
||
And the staff the Blind God threw was kissing-wood!
|
||
|
||
Tyr vowed Fenris-Wolf his hand if he couldn't break the Band
|
||
That All-Father's wisdom made both light and hefty...
|
||
Lupine muscles strained away, but the magic held its' sway -
|
||
And from then on, till The Time, they called Tyr "Lefty!"
|
||
|
||
When Thor went out to fish, he quickly got his wish,
|
||
and he hauled a Jormangandr from the Bay.
|
||
But Hymr cut the cable, and Thor was only able
|
||
To brag about the "one that got away..."
|
||
|
||
When Thor called upon the Giants, they didn't show defiance,
|
||
But they soon got rid of him, and of his Hammer!
|
||
For the sea he could not swallow, and old Grandmaw beat him hollow,
|
||
And the House-Pet caused an awful katzenjammer!
|
||
|
||
Asa-Thor became a "her" for to repossess Mjollnir,
|
||
And unto a frosty brute his troth did plight;
|
||
But the vittles that he ate would an army more than sate,
|
||
And the chefs at Utgard always rued that night!
|
||
|
||
Each God's Apple every day, kept the doctor far away
|
||
'Til a Giant captured Ydun from their Halls...
|
||
Loki fetched home Bragi's Bride, with Her health-food store beside,
|
||
Plus a char-broiled eagle underneath the Walls!
|
||
|
||
Odin said to Mim: "I think I would sort of like a drink."
|
||
Answered Mim: "That will cost you your left eye!
|
||
For you've come up very late to the Well at Wisdom's Gate
|
||
And the set-up prices, after hours, are high!"
|
||
|
||
Oh, the Giants brought their War up to Bifrost's very Door
|
||
And the battling wrecked Asgards perfect clime-
|
||
Jormungandr, Hel and Fenris dealt out Death in doses generous
|
||
And, in fighting, did the Aesir pass The Time!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
25
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
COME FILL UP YOUR GLASSES
|
||
-recorded by Steeleye Span
|
||
"All Around My Hat"
|
||
|
||
Come fill up your glasses, and let us be merry
|
||
For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: As we roam thru yonder valleys
|
||
Where the lilys and the roses
|
||
And the beauty of cashmere lay drooping his head
|
||
Then away, then away, then away!
|
||
To the gates of yonder mountain where the robbers retreat!
|
||
|
||
Hush! hush! In the distance there's footsteps approaching!
|
||
Stand! Stand and deliver! It is our watch-cry!
|
||
|
||
Come fill up your glasses and let us be merry!
|
||
For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
26
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
CUP OF WONDER
|
||
-Ian Anderson
|
||
recorded: "Songs from the Wood"
|
||
Jethro Tull
|
||
copyright 1977 Salamander Music
|
||
pub. USA: Chrysalis Music Corp.
|
||
|
||
May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the hour
|
||
But we accept your invitation, and we bring you Beltane's Flower
|
||
For the May Day is the Great Day, strung along the Old Straight Track
|
||
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this song that calls them back!
|
||
|
||
Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the Cup that fills with Red
|
||
Ask the old grey Standing Stones who show the Sun His way to bed
|
||
Question all as to their Ways, and learn the Secrets that they hold
|
||
Walk the lines of Nature's Palm, crossed with Silver and with Gold.
|
||
|
||
(Chorus): Pass the Word, and pass the Lady
|
||
Pass the Plate to all who hunger!
|
||
Pass the Wit of Ancient Wisdom
|
||
Pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder!
|
||
|
||
Join in Black December's Madness! Lie in August's welcome Corn!
|
||
Stir the Cup that's ever filling with the Blood of all thatks born!
|
||
For the May Day is the Great Day, strung along the Old Straight Track
|
||
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
CUP OF WONDER II
|
||
-variant lyrics by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the Hour
|
||
But I accept your invitation, and I bring you Beltane's Flower
|
||
For the May Day is the Great Day strung along the Old Straight Track
|
||
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back!
|
||
|
||
Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the Sun his way to bed
|
||
Ask the grey and Standing Stones where last they lay their head
|
||
Ask the Lady where She's standing, growing young, and growing old
|
||
Cross the Lines of Nature's Palm, marked with Silver, crossed with Gold
|
||
For the May Day is the Great Day strung along the Old Straight Track
|
||
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back!
|
||
|
||
Ask the Lady where She's standing in the green and growing corn!
|
||
Take the Cup that's ever filling with the Blood of all that's born!
|
||
For the May Day is the Great Day, strung along the Old Straight Track
|
||
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back!
|
||
|
||
So, pass the Cup, and pass the Lady!
|
||
Pass the Plate to all who hunger!
|
||
Pass the Wit of Ancient Wisdom
|
||
Pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder!
|
||
|
||
(repeat verse 1)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
27
|
||
DEAR KINDLY LOCAL HERALD
|
||
-Goldwyn of Britain
|
||
-tune: "Officer Krupke"
|
||
|
||
Submittor: Dear kindly local herald, I'm new - fresh off the farm.
|
||
The SCA's fantastic! I want a coat of arms!
|
||
I don't like heralds muchly. Your terms all leave me bored.
|
||
This I know - I think I want a sword.
|
||
Local: Dear kindly newcomer, don't bring it to me.
|
||
Baronial Pursuivant is the one you should see.
|
||
In heraldic terms it's called "passing the buck"
|
||
So, go away... and best of luck.
|
||
Submittor: Best of luck?
|
||
Local: Best of luck! Best of luck! You'll need all your pluck
|
||
To submit. I'll wish you best of luck.
|
||
Submittor: Dear Baronial Pursuivant, I'm told to come to you
|
||
So, here is my submission. I know it will go through
|
||
I've got a rampant dragon, a sword that's upside down.
|
||
Over all there is a golden crown!
|
||
Baronial: Dear kindly submittor, I've bad news for you.
|
||
It's nice, but you are shy about a copy or two.
|
||
Before this submission the College will see -
|
||
We should have told you - we need three.
|
||
Submittor: You need three?
|
||
Baronial: We need three copies - three! We need one, two, three.
|
||
Need eight bucks and copies one, two, three.
|
||
Submittor: Dear kindly Kingdom Herald, my name and my device
|
||
I've shown to other heralds. They say it's really nice.
|
||
My lady's made a banner - I've fiberglassed my shield.
|
||
Pass it and my future will be sealed.
|
||
Kingdom: Dear kindly submittor, I'm sorry to say
|
||
That at the herald's meeting that we had yesterday,
|
||
We checked our books singly, we checked them en masse;
|
||
I've got to tell you - it won't pass.
|
||
Submittor: It won't pass?
|
||
Kingdom: It won't pass, it won't pass. It conflicts and won't pass.
|
||
You can bet your ass it will not pass.
|
||
Submittor: Dear Laurel King (Queen) of Arms. I'm running out of hope
|
||
The pressure's getting to me. I really cannot cope.
|
||
The herald's I've avoided, the tourneys I have missed...
|
||
I've been patient. Now I'm getting pissed!
|
||
Laurel: Dear pesky submittor, quit bothering me.
|
||
'Cause heralds don't respond to an emotional plea.
|
||
I'm not gonna pass it, unless you consent
|
||
To start again - and document!
|
||
Submittor: Document!
|
||
Laurel: Document, document ere I give assent.
|
||
That is what I said and what I meant!
|
||
Local: The trouble is it's simple.
|
||
Baronial: It's overly complex.
|
||
Kingdom: The trouble is it's marshalled.
|
||
Laurel: It's like Purina Chex!
|
||
Heralds: The trouble is it has all the troubles we have known
|
||
Submittor: Heralds I've got troubles of my own!
|
||
Dear Board Of Directors - I'm pleading wit'youse
|
||
And here is all my research which you cannot refuse.
|
||
Besides all of this, there is just one more thing....
|
||
I just became my Kingdom's King!
|
||
*
|
||
28
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
DIE GEDANKEN SIND FREI
|
||
-from the Bundshuh Rebellion
|
||
March 17, 1525
|
||
Translation by Arthur Kevess copyright 1950 People's Songs Inc.
|
||
recorded by the Limelighters "Live - In Person"
|
||
|
||
Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie erraten?
|
||
Sie fliehen vorbei wie naechlichte shaten
|
||
Kein Mensch kann sie wissen, kein Jager ershiessen
|
||
Es bleibet dabei: die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
Die Gendanken sind frei: my thoughts freely flower
|
||
Die Gedanken sind frei: my thoughts give me power
|
||
No scholar can map them, no hunter can trap them
|
||
No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
Ich denke was ich will, und was mich begluecket
|
||
Doch alles in der Still, und wie es sich shicket
|
||
Mein Wunsch und Begehren kann niemand verwehren
|
||
Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
I think as I please, and this gives me pleasure
|
||
My concience decrees: this Right I must treasure!
|
||
My thoughts will not cater to Duke nor Dictator
|
||
No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
Und sperrt man mich ein im finsteren Kerker
|
||
Das alles sind rein vegebliche Werke;
|
||
Denn meine Gedanken zerreissen die Schranken
|
||
Und Mauern entzwei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
And if tyrants take me and throw me in prison
|
||
My thoughts will burst free, like blossoms in season!
|
||
Foundations will crumble, the prison will tumble,
|
||
And free men will cry: Die Gedanken sind frei!
|
||
|
||
Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
29
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
I'M A DARLIN'
|
||
-Anonymous
|
||
(Tune: "Dublin City")
|
||
|
||
As I walked out of Chester city
|
||
At the late hour of the night
|
||
Who should I see but a fair young maiden
|
||
Washing her clothes by the clear moonlight
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: Madam, I'm a darlin', a die-ro-dither-o
|
||
Madam, I'm a darlin', a die-ro-day
|
||
|
||
First she washed and then she squeezed them
|
||
And then she hung them out to dry
|
||
And then she folded up her arms saying
|
||
O what a fair young girl am I
|
||
|
||
O, going to the well to fetch some water
|
||
Fetching it back to make some cheese
|
||
She fell under and I fell over
|
||
And all the game was above her knee
|
||
|
||
Madam I will tie your garter,
|
||
I will tie it above your knee
|
||
And if you like I'll tie it up farther
|
||
'Cause madam I'm a die-row-day
|
||
|
||
Have you ever heard of cups and saucers
|
||
Rattling round an old tin can
|
||
have you ever heard of a fair young girl
|
||
Married to an ugly grey old man
|
||
|
||
Madam you may have the gold and silver
|
||
Madam you may have the tracts of land
|
||
You may have ships all on the ocean
|
||
But what you need now is a canny young man
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
30
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
DUELING HERALDS
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(Tune: "Dueling Banjos")
|
||
(c) copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
||
This takes the form of a duet between two Heralds.....
|
||
|
||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
|
||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
|
||
Hush your speech and pray forfend!
|
||
(Hush your speech and pray forfend!)
|
||
From interrupting Royal Court!
|
||
(From interrupting Royal Court!)
|
||
We'll truly try to keep this short!
|
||
(We'll truly try to keep this short!)
|
||
His Majesty
|
||
(His Majesty)
|
||
Wishes Me
|
||
(Wishes Me)
|
||
To announce announcements to you all
|
||
(To announce announcements to you all)
|
||
To attend His Presence in this Hall
|
||
(To attend His Presence in this Hall)
|
||
|
||
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
|
||
|
||
His Majesty commands you all
|
||
Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
|
||
|
||
[single herald sings:]
|
||
|
||
Please remember leave the site as clean as clean can be
|
||
[And do not] smoke within the Hall, for it's not period, you see
|
||
[And try to] speak forsoothly to the gentles partying tonight
|
||
[For we're the] SCA, and we're the ones who try to get it right!
|
||
|
||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
|
||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
|
||
We as Heralds condesend
|
||
(We as Heralds condesend)
|
||
To blazon forth the finest Arms
|
||
(To blazon forth the finest Arms)
|
||
That ever graced a Kingdom's charms
|
||
(That ever graced a Kingdom's charms)
|
||
Cheqy bendy plumetty
|
||
(Cheqy bendy plumetty)
|
||
Gyronny!
|
||
(Arondy!)
|
||
I believe, sir, you have got it wrong!
|
||
(But that's how Locksley wrote the song!)
|
||
|
||
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
|
||
|
||
His Majesty commands you all
|
||
Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
|
||
|
||
(more)
|
||
|
||
31
|
||
Dueling Heralds (cont.)
|
||
|
||
[the second Herald sings:]
|
||
Three spiders rampant passant statant on a field of green
|
||
Surrounded by a bordure compony is what we mean
|
||
Engorged with crowns of several kinds, and que-fourchee to boot
|
||
And charged with Fleurs-de-Lis in pink
|
||
|
||
[spoken: "In pink?"
|
||
"Well, it -could- have been flamingos!"]
|
||
|
||
And semee'd in bandicoots!
|
||
|
||
[both: "ARRGGGHHH!"]
|
||
|
||
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend
|
||
(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
|
||
And please do not misapprehend
|
||
(And please do not misapprehend)
|
||
For we in our pomposity
|
||
(For we in our pomposity)
|
||
Perpetuate atrocity
|
||
(Perpetuate atrocity)
|
||
By singing you this awful song
|
||
(By singing you this awful song)
|
||
We know that it is much too long!
|
||
(We know that it is much too long!)
|
||
His Majesty
|
||
Is kicking me!
|
||
So we'll shut up and take our leave
|
||
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
|
||
So we'll shut up and take our leave
|
||
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
|
||
|
||
(fade out and sneak off, if possible....)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
32
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
ELRIC THE AWFUL
|
||
-Ray Stevens
|
||
|
||
Way back in history along the Nordic coast
|
||
that was the sound all the people feared the most
|
||
It would echo thru the night up and down the foggy fj-ord
|
||
It was Elric and the bloodthirsty Horde!
|
||
|
||
Chorus: Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
|
||
Elric the Awful, the Ruthless and Courageous
|
||
Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces
|
||
You can run, but you cannot hide!
|
||
|
||
YES! And as the oars of the sleek, fierce Viking ship cut thru the water like
|
||
knives thru the fog-shrouded Nordic sea, transporting the wild, marauding
|
||
band of Viking heathens stealthily towards their unsuspecting, slumbering
|
||
victims, there he stood, on the foredeck, Elric the Awful, the wildest,
|
||
bloodthirstiest Viking of them all!
|
||
|
||
(his Momma named him Elric 'cause she couldn't spell AHHGGGRRRFFFFLLLLQQHH!)
|
||
|
||
He had a hairy head, a hairy face, hairy chest, hairy legs, hairy boots and a
|
||
hairy hat, shaped like a big bullet with horns comin' out the sides.....and
|
||
once he started after ya he'd NEVER stop!
|
||
He'd turn to his oarsmen in his 37 oared fj-ord and he'd say: "MORDEN BORDEN
|
||
FJORDEN GORDEN!" which was Viking for:
|
||
|
||
"YA-HOO!!!!!, RAVAGE, PILLAGE, PLUNDER,
|
||
MAIM AND PUT BIG HICKEYS ON ALL THEM FAIR DAMSELS!"
|
||
|
||
Chorus: And it was Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
|
||
Elric the Awful, mercy sakes! and goodness gracious!
|
||
His appetite for slaughter was simply voracious
|
||
You gotta sleep with your sneakers by your side!
|
||
|
||
YES! And when the villagers heard that awful battle-cry:
|
||
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
That's the one! They would run for their lives, fleeing over hills and
|
||
thru valleys to the river, whereupon they would walk mid-stream for 37 and 1/2
|
||
miles, climbing out on the low-lying branch, shinnying down a young sapling
|
||
onto rocky ground and leaping from stone to stone until they arrived one week
|
||
later at a secret cave 97 miles away, and as they sat down for the first time
|
||
to catch their breath, outside they heard:
|
||
|
||
"YA-HOOOO!!!! MORDEN BORDEN FJORDEN GORDEN!"
|
||
|
||
Chorus: Yes, it was Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
|
||
Elric the Awful, turned up in the darndest places
|
||
Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces
|
||
You can run, but you cannot hide!
|
||
|
||
OH! And this time they cut south to Paris, bought tickets on the Orient
|
||
Express to Istanbul, hired a U-Haul to the Coast, jumped a Greek freighter
|
||
across the Mediterranian Sea to MON-golia, hooked up with a camel caravan into
|
||
the heart of the Gobi Desert, and as they paused at an oasis, to lift one
|
||
handful of cool water to their parched lips, over their shoulder they heard:
|
||
|
||
33
|
||
Elric the Awful (cont.)
|
||
|
||
"YA-HOOOO!!!! MORDEN BORDEN FJORDEN GORDEN!"
|
||
|
||
They fled to Calcutta!
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
They fled to the Himalayas!
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
Tokyo!
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
Toronto!
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
Toledo and Heyhailea, Georgia.....
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
|
||
But it was no use! They finally succumbed to a savage plundering and
|
||
pillaging followed by a big hickey party on the outskirts of what is now
|
||
Washington, DC, where the decendants of Elric can still be found today,
|
||
working as Special Agents for the IRS!
|
||
|
||
Elric later amassed a small fortune posing for Molly Hatchet album covers,
|
||
and did stuntwork for Arnold Schwartzenegger in Conan the Barbarian! He also
|
||
won an Academy Award for his dual role as a train wreck and his tender
|
||
portrayal of King Kong's daddy! Oh, you might remember the end of that one:
|
||
there wasn't a dry eye in the house when he married the Empire State Building.
|
||
And who could forget the evening he ate the entire Kingdom of the East?
|
||
With no sugar?
|
||
|
||
Chorus: Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
|
||
Elric the Awful, the Hungry and Voracious
|
||
Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces
|
||
You can run but you cannot hide!
|
||
|
||
* YA-HOOOOOOOOOOO! *
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
34
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FAIRIES LOVE SONG
|
||
-Anonymous
|
||
|
||
Why should I sit and sigh
|
||
Broo and bracken, broo and bracken
|
||
Why should I sit and sigh
|
||
All alone and weary
|
||
|
||
When I see the plover rising
|
||
Or the curlew wheeling
|
||
It's then I'll court my mortal lover
|
||
Back to me is stealing
|
||
|
||
When the moon begins her waning
|
||
I sit by the water
|
||
Where a man born of the sunlight
|
||
Loved the Faerie's daughter
|
||
|
||
Oh, but there is something wanting
|
||
O but I am weary
|
||
Coming blithe, now bonny treads he
|
||
O'er the knolls to cheer me
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE FALSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD (Child #3)
|
||
-recorded by Steeleye Span
|
||
|
||
"Oh where are you going to?"
|
||
said the False Knight upon the road
|
||
"Oh I'm going to my school."
|
||
said the wee boy and still he stood
|
||
"What is that upon your back?"
|
||
said the False Knight upon the road
|
||
"Ah weel, it is my books!"
|
||
said the wee boy and still he stood
|
||
|
||
Oh, what have you got there? I wish you was on the sands.
|
||
I have got my bread and cheese! Yes, and a good staff in my hands!
|
||
Oh won't you give me some? I wish you was on the sea.
|
||
No, ne'r a bite or crumb! And a good ship under me!
|
||
|
||
And the ship to sink.
|
||
An inch away from shore!
|
||
I think I hear a bell.
|
||
And it rings you straight to Hell!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
35
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FARAIS UN VERS DREIT RIEN
|
||
-William IX, Count of Poitiers
|
||
tune: Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
copyright 1976 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
recorded: "Celtic Circle Dance"
|
||
|
||
I'll make some verses just for fun
|
||
Not about me, nor anyone
|
||
Nor deeds that noble Knights have done,
|
||
Nor Love's ado
|
||
I made them riding, in the sun..
|
||
My horses helped, too!
|
||
|
||
When I was born? I cannot say!
|
||
I am not sad, I am not fey,
|
||
I am not stiff, nor degage...
|
||
What shall I do?
|
||
Long since, enchanted by a Fay,
|
||
Star-touched I grew.
|
||
|
||
Dreaming for living I'll mistake
|
||
Unless I'm told when I'm awake
|
||
My heart is sad, and nigh to break
|
||
With bitter rue
|
||
And I don't care three crumbs of cake
|
||
Nor even two!
|
||
|
||
So ill am I that Death I fear
|
||
(I nothing know but what I hear...)
|
||
I hope there is a doctor near
|
||
no matter who!
|
||
If he can cure me, I'll pay dear;
|
||
If not: He's thru!
|
||
|
||
I have a Lady; who, or where
|
||
I cannot tell you, but I swear
|
||
She treats me neither ill, nor fair,
|
||
But I'm not blue...
|
||
Just as the * Normans * stay...up there...
|
||
OUT of Poitou!
|
||
|
||
I have not seen, yet I adore
|
||
This distant love, she sets no store
|
||
On what I think, and furthermore...
|
||
('tis sad, but true)
|
||
Others there are...some three...or four...
|
||
I'm....faithful....to!
|
||
|
||
I've made this verse, if you'll allow
|
||
I think I'll pass it on right now
|
||
To one who'll send it on, somehow,
|
||
Up to Anjou.
|
||
He'd tell me what it means, I vow,
|
||
If he but knew!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
36
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FIDDLER'S GREEN
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(c) 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
(Tune: "Fiddler's Green")
|
||
|
||
As I went a-walking one evening so rare
|
||
To view the still waters and taste the cool air
|
||
I heard an old SCAdian singing this song
|
||
Sayin', "Take me away boys, my time is not long.....
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: Wrap me up in me armor and surcoat;
|
||
No more in the Lists I'll be seen!
|
||
Just tell all the ladies, I've not gone to Hades,
|
||
And I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green."
|
||
|
||
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
|
||
Where all SCAdians go, if they don't go to hell!
|
||
Where the weather is fair and the maidens do play,
|
||
And the Board of Directors are far, far away.....
|
||
|
||
Where the weather is perfect, and there's never rain,
|
||
And going to Tourneys is never a pain!
|
||
You lie at your leisure, there's no work to do,
|
||
While the rivers are made of pure Tullimore Dew.....!
|
||
|
||
Where pavilions set themselves up on their own,
|
||
And the Seneshals run things with never a moan!
|
||
Beside the green woodlands, and near a pure creek,
|
||
And the Heralds are all quite unable to speak......!
|
||
|
||
I don't need no wings, nor the halo I lack;
|
||
Just give me a horse and a city to sack!
|
||
I'll play me old cittern as we ride along
|
||
And the wind from the mountains will sing me this song.....
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
37
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FLOWER OF THE DESERT
|
||
-Baldwin of Erebor
|
||
|
||
On a warm winter's evening I stopped at an Inn
|
||
I met a bold captain; a leader of men
|
||
he asked me to join him, for he was alone
|
||
and, as he was drinking, he spoke of his home
|
||
|
||
(Chorus): Oh, Flower of the Desert full well may you boast!
|
||
Proud Father-of-Kingdoms from mountains to coast!
|
||
the Land of the Phoenix; your works have been felt!
|
||
Oh Flower of the Desert: Atenveldt!
|
||
|
||
When I was a young man and still in my prime
|
||
My life stretched before me; I had plenty of time
|
||
But now I'm an old man, and I number my days
|
||
And I think of my homeland that seems so far away
|
||
|
||
I've followed the Wars now for many a year
|
||
Rode plenty of wenches; drank an ocean of beer
|
||
Lived life to the fullest as a soldier must do
|
||
but I'd trade it all, freely, for the Atenveldt blue!
|
||
|
||
The fire died to embers; he drank steadily on
|
||
When I woke in the morning the soldier was gone.
|
||
But I think of his story wherever I bide
|
||
What a beautiful Kingdom to inspire such pride!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FORTUNE MY FOE
|
||
|
||
Fortune my foe, why dost thou frown on me
|
||
and will thy favors never greater be
|
||
Wilt thou I say forever breed me pain
|
||
And wilt thou ne'er restore my joys again
|
||
|
||
Fortune hath brought me grief and great annoy
|
||
fortune hath falsely stolen my love away
|
||
My love and joy whose sight did make me glad
|
||
such great misfortune never young man had
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
38
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
FRUIT OF THE YEW (tune guitar: DADGBD)
|
||
-James Treebull (aka: Trooper)
|
||
copyright 1989 James Gahar (BMI)
|
||
|
||
Grim warriors appeared, decked in iron and gold,
|
||
Their bright banners snapped in the breeze
|
||
Harvest was over, the weather was cold
|
||
Turning hot breath to cloud in the freeze.
|
||
|
||
They moved over river, and meadow and field
|
||
The peasantry scattered before
|
||
They gathered the wealth of the land on their shields
|
||
And carried it off to the shore.
|
||
|
||
"How can this happen, and where is our King?
|
||
And where are the warriors we pay?"
|
||
"Aye, the King may be King where he sits on his throne,
|
||
But his throne is four days ride away!"
|
||
|
||
Swift word was sent to the men of the woods
|
||
There'll be no trade for Winter this year.
|
||
No sacks of grain for the skin of the fox,
|
||
No ale for the flesh of the deer.
|
||
|
||
But deep in the woodlands of Wales grows a tree,
|
||
And the name of that tree is the yew.
|
||
And the fruit of the yew is a stout longbow stave
|
||
Throwing straight clothyard shafts strong and true!
|
||
|
||
They gathered in numbers from forest and fen
|
||
Walking soft as the hunting-men do,
|
||
And hung at their belts were the straight clothyard shafts
|
||
In each hand was the fruit of the yew.
|
||
|
||
And, slipping by night thru the still-burning steads,
|
||
They looked for the camp by the shore
|
||
And each made a vow, as he passed by the dead,
|
||
That the morning would even the score.
|
||
|
||
Well, morning broke clear, and the raiders awoke,
|
||
With a leisurely thought for the day
|
||
Till one showed himself, and a soft bowstring spoke,
|
||
From three hundred paces away!
|
||
|
||
And as he fell dead, a loud, taunting voice spoke
|
||
"It's a pleasure to pay you your due!"
|
||
"You came seeking all of the fruits of our land,
|
||
Have a taste of the fruit of the yew!"
|
||
|
||
What use are shields that don't cover the legs?
|
||
Or helms that don't cover the eyes?
|
||
Or shirts of bright mail 'gainst the stout clothyard shaft
|
||
That can pierce thru a stag on the fly?
|
||
|
||
The King arrived early, mud-spattered and tired,
|
||
Just to look on a field of the dead.
|
||
Cut down from the front as they stood in their line,
|
||
Cut down from the rear as they fled! (more)
|
||
39
|
||
Fruit Of The Yew (cont.)
|
||
|
||
"And where are the men that have done me this deed?"
|
||
Asked the King, from his horse ridden lame,
|
||
"'Twas outlaws and brigands from back in the woods,
|
||
They've since fled back whence they all came."
|
||
|
||
"And would they take Pardon, and live in my Peace?"
|
||
Asked the King of his Councilor true,
|
||
Said the Councilor, "Nay, they're a quarrelsome lot;
|
||
They'll not become lawful for you."
|
||
|
||
Raiders, take heed to the gist of my tale
|
||
(It may lengthen your lives, if you will!)
|
||
When you go a-reavin' be sure of your mark!
|
||
Take care that it matches your skill!
|
||
|
||
For England pays silver, and Spain will give gold,
|
||
And France will grant land, that is true,
|
||
But seek not for wealth in the woodlands of Wales,
|
||
For THEY pay in the fruit of the yew!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE FUBBA-WUBBA SONG
|
||
-Mark the Immoral
|
||
(Tune: "Rubber Ducky")
|
||
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, big and round
|
||
When was the last time you saw the ground?
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of you!
|
||
|
||
Fubba-Wubba with an Attitude
|
||
How did you ever get so rude?
|
||
Fubba-Wubba we're awfully tired of you!
|
||
|
||
At a war, you're such a bore to everybody
|
||
They want to strangle you, but what to do with the body?
|
||
(Sell it for the blubber!)
|
||
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, you're the only one
|
||
Who knows how it should be done
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of you!
|
||
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, you're an expert,
|
||
When it comes to doing dirt!
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of you!
|
||
|
||
You're no fool when it's a rule that you're explainin'
|
||
But still it seems to me that we all agree that you're complainin'
|
||
That you could do it better.....
|
||
|
||
Fubba-Wubba with that nasal whine
|
||
Don't you know, can't you see the signs
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of
|
||
The B.S. you seem to be sired of
|
||
Fubba-Wubba, we're AWFULLY tired of YOU!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
40
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
GAUDETE
|
||
from: Piae Cantones (Swedish, 1582)
|
||
Recorded by Steeleye Span "Below the Salt"
|
||
|
||
Gaudete! Gaudete Christus est natus
|
||
Ex Maria Virginae, gaudete! (repeat)
|
||
|
||
Tempus ad est gratiae Ezecheelis porta
|
||
Hoc quod optibamus Clausa per transistor
|
||
Carmina laetitae Unde lux est orta
|
||
Devote redamus Sallus invenitor
|
||
|
||
Deus homo factus est Ergo nostra contio
|
||
Naturam erante Psallat jam in lustro
|
||
Mundus renovatus est Benidicat domino
|
||
A Christo regnante! Sallus Regi Nostro!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
GAUDETE: THE TRANSLATION!
|
||
from: Piae Cantones (1582)
|
||
-translated (?) by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
Latin: English:
|
||
|
||
Gaudete! Gaudete Gaudette (Fr.) and Christopher
|
||
Christus est natus have been naughty with Maria (Sp.)
|
||
Ex Maria Virginae, from ( or in ) Virginia, USA.
|
||
gaudete!
|
||
|
||
Tempus ad est gratiae Tempus (1) is grateful for the
|
||
Hoc quod optibamus pawnshop while Carmine's breasts
|
||
Carmina laetitae are late in developing. He remains
|
||
Devote redamus optomistic as they ask to be read
|
||
the election results.
|
||
Deus homo factus est
|
||
Naturam erante Nature has erred and made God a
|
||
Mundus renovatus est poofter. Next month, renovation,
|
||
A Christo regnante! and Christopher may get pregnant.
|
||
|
||
Ezecheelis porta Eziekiel is carrying Santa Claus
|
||
Clausa per transistor with a transistor radio. Sally has
|
||
Unde lux est orta invented ( or ought to invent ) a
|
||
Sallus invenitor deluxe model of fancy underwear.
|
||
|
||
Ergo nostra contio The Ergones (2) are in our nostrils,
|
||
Psallat jam in lustro but we lust for "Psallat Jam."
|
||
Benidicat domino "The Benedictine dominos will reign
|
||
Sallus Regi Nostro! over Sally" says Nostradamus.
|
||
|
||
(1) A character from "Thieve's World." Damn Bob Asprin gets in EVERYWHERE!
|
||
(2) Alien beings reputed to be used-car salesmen.
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
41
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
GUINIVERE
|
||
-Donovan Leitch
|
||
|
||
Guinivere of the Royal Court of Arthur
|
||
Dressed in white velvet, linen and lace.
|
||
The rustle of her gown on the white marble staircase
|
||
Sparkles on fingers, both slender and pale.
|
||
|
||
(Chorus): the Jester he sleeps while the Raven he peeps
|
||
thru the dark foreboding skies
|
||
of the Royal Domain.
|
||
|
||
Maroon-coloured wine, from the vinyards of Charlemagne
|
||
is sipped by the Queen's Lips, and so tenderly.
|
||
Indigo eyes in the flickering candlelight
|
||
Such is the silence over Royal Camelot.
|
||
|
||
(Chorus)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
42
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACTA EST!
|
||
(tune: This Land is Your Land...sigh...)
|
||
|
||
HAEC TERR(A) EST TUA, HAEC TERR(A) EST MEA
|
||
EX CALIFORNIA AD PENNSYLVANIAM
|
||
EX RUFIS SILVIS AD AQUAS SINUS
|
||
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST
|
||
|
||
PEDUM MEORUM GRADUS SEQEBAR
|
||
AD DEAERTUM PULER(ES) GURDENTES
|
||
ATQUE CANTABAT VOX CIRCA ME
|
||
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST
|
||
|
||
CUM AMBULAREM IN ARCTA VIA
|
||
VIDI SUPRA ME SEMTERNUM COELUM
|
||
VIDI INFRA ME AUREAS VALLES
|
||
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST
|
||
|
||
CUM SOL LUCERET ET AMBUAM
|
||
TRITICUM JACT(A) RET ET PULVIS FLARET
|
||
CUM NEBUL(A) SURGERET ET VOX DICTARET
|
||
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
43
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
HARD TIMES OF OLD ENGLAND
|
||
-Traditional
|
||
|
||
Come all brother tradesmen who travel along,
|
||
I pray, come and tell me where the trade is all gone
|
||
Long time have I travelled, and I cannot find none
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: And it's oh, the hard times of old England
|
||
In old England very hard times!
|
||
|
||
Provisions you buy at the shop, it is true
|
||
But if you've no money, there's none there for you
|
||
So what is a poor man, and his family to do?
|
||
|
||
You will go to the shop where you'll ask for a job
|
||
They'll answer you there with a shake and a nod
|
||
Well, that is enough to make a man turn and rob!
|
||
|
||
You will see the poor tradesmen a-walking the streets
|
||
From morning to night their employment to seek
|
||
And scarce do they have any shoes on their feet
|
||
|
||
Our soldiers and sailors have just come from war
|
||
And fighting for Queen and for Country this year
|
||
Come home to be starved, should have stayed where they were
|
||
|
||
And now to conclude and to finish my song
|
||
Let us hope that these hard times, they will not last long
|
||
I hope soon to have occasion to alter my song
|
||
|
||
And sing: Oh, the good times of old England
|
||
In old England, jolly good times!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
44
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
HARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN
|
||
-Rudyard Kipling
|
||
tune by Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
|
||
What is a woman that you forsake her?
|
||
and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
|
||
to go with the old, grey Widow-Maker?
|
||
|
||
She has no house to lay a guest in
|
||
but one chill bed for all to rest in
|
||
that the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in
|
||
|
||
She has no strong white arms to fold you
|
||
but the ten times fingering weeds to hold you
|
||
out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you
|
||
|
||
Yet, when the signs of Summer thicken
|
||
and the ice breaks and the birch-buds quicken
|
||
yearly you turn from our side and sicken
|
||
|
||
Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters
|
||
you steal away to the lapping waters
|
||
and look at your ship in her winter quarters
|
||
|
||
You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables
|
||
the kine in the shed and the horse in the stables
|
||
to pitch her sides and go over her cables...
|
||
|
||
Then you drive out where the storm clouds swallow
|
||
and the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow
|
||
is all we have left through the months to follow
|
||
|
||
Ah...but what is a woman that you forsake her?
|
||
and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
|
||
to go with the old, grey Widow-maker?
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
45
|
||
|
||
THE SAD TALE OF HARRY POLLITT, PARLIAMENTARIAN
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
(Tune: "Harry Pollitt")
|
||
|
||
Harry Pollitt lived in Atenveldt,
|
||
A Parliamentarian lad;
|
||
He was most foully murdered
|
||
By those naughty Royalist cads!
|
||
Those naughty Royalist cads!
|
||
Those bullying Royalist cads!
|
||
He was most foully murdered
|
||
By those naughty Royalist cads!
|
||
|
||
Ol' Harry went to Heaven,
|
||
Got to the Gates with ease,
|
||
Says: "May I speak with Citizen God?
|
||
I'm Harry Pollitt, please!"
|
||
Harry Pollitt, please (&c)
|
||
|
||
St. Peter says to Harry
|
||
"Are you humble and contrite?"
|
||
"Well, I slap around Royalist Ladies!"
|
||
"Well...OK! That's quite all right!"
|
||
Ok, that's quite all right
|
||
Yer a Roundhead pure and bright!
|
||
Yer a BRAVE MAN to slap Ladies
|
||
So, OK, that's quite all right!
|
||
|
||
Well they put him in the choir,
|
||
But he was too close to God;
|
||
So he griped about the angels,
|
||
And wrote letters to the BoD.
|
||
Letters to the BoD
|
||
Outraged letters to the BoD
|
||
He griped about the angels,
|
||
And wrote letters to the BoD
|
||
|
||
One day when God was walkin' The verdict, it was GUILTY
|
||
Round Heaven to meditate, Harry said "Oh, well!"
|
||
Who should he see but Harry So he tucked his nightie round his knees
|
||
Chalkin' slogans on the Gate! And he drifted down to Hell
|
||
Slogans on the Gate (&c) Drifted down to Hell (&c.)
|
||
|
||
They brought him up on charges Now seven long years have passed
|
||
Before the Holy Ghost And Harry's doin' swell!
|
||
For spreadin' Roundhead thinkin' He's just been made First People's
|
||
Amongst the Heavenly Host! Commissar of Parliament Hell!
|
||
Amongst the Heavenly Host (&c) Commissar of Parliament Hell
|
||
(Just a mile from Ysgithr!)
|
||
He's just been made First People's
|
||
Commissar of Parliament Hell!
|
||
|
||
So the moral of my story
|
||
Is easy for to tell
|
||
If you think this is a Democracy,
|
||
You better go to Hell!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
46
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE HERALDS SAID TO ME
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley and Cherie Ruadh of Locksley
|
||
(c) copyright 1988, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
|
||
(sung to the tune (obviously) of the 12 Days of Christmas)
|
||
|
||
|
||
1. The first time I sent my device, The Heralds said to me
|
||
|
||
"It violates the Rule of Three"
|
||
|
||
2. The next time I tried it, the Heralds said to me
|
||
|
||
"We changed the forms, and it violates the Rule of
|
||
Three".
|
||
|
||
3. The third time I tried, and the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"We upped the fees, we changed the forms, and it
|
||
violates the Rule of Three".
|
||
|
||
4. Another time I tried and the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"We haven't got it, we upped the fees, we changed the
|
||
forms, and it violates the Rule of Three".
|
||
|
||
5. The fifth time I tried it, the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on
|
||
August 1st, A.S. V it was decided that this style of
|
||
heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and
|
||
intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy! Holy! Holy! "
|
||
|
||
note: verse 5 is delivered in an extremely fast, mono-
|
||
tone, similiar to a Gregorian Chant.
|
||
|
||
" ....we haven't got it, we upped the fees, we changed the forms,
|
||
and it violates the Rule of Three."
|
||
|
||
6. I tried it a sixth time, and the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"We changed the rules, &c"
|
||
|
||
7. A seventh time I tried and, the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"It's against the Rule of Tincture, we changed the
|
||
rules, &c"
|
||
|
||
8. I tried it once again and the heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"It's not a Period design, It's against the Rule of Tincture, We
|
||
changed the rules, &c"
|
||
|
||
9. I sent it in once more, and the Heralds said to me,
|
||
|
||
"We changed the rules again, It's not a Period design,
|
||
it's against the Rule of Tincture, we changed the
|
||
rules, &c" (more)
|
||
47
|
||
The Heralds Said To Me (cont.):
|
||
|
||
10. (sung in cold anger)
|
||
The LAST time I sent my device, the Heralds said to me
|
||
|
||
(sung in a state of SMUG)
|
||
"Someone else has got it, &c"
|
||
|
||
(nb: every single one of these reasons has been used by the
|
||
CoA, at one point or another, to reject perfectly good
|
||
heraldry, along with some even MORE stupid. If the shoe
|
||
fits....................!!!!!!!!)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
HOW SHOULD I YOUR TRUE LOVE KNOW?
|
||
-Wm. Shakespeare (Hamlet)
|
||
(Ophelia's song)
|
||
|
||
Am E Am A dim
|
||
How should I your true love know?
|
||
|
||
C G Dm Am
|
||
From another one?
|
||
|
||
Dm Am A dim
|
||
By his cockle-hat and staff
|
||
|
||
Am C G Am G
|
||
And his sandal shoon.
|
||
|
||
He is dead and gone, Lady,
|
||
He is dead and gone!
|
||
At his head a soft green turf
|
||
At his heels a stone.
|
||
|
||
White his shroud as mountain snow,
|
||
Larded o'er with flowers,
|
||
Which bewept to the grave did go
|
||
With true lovers showers.
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
48
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE HIGHWAYMAN
|
||
|
||
Lyrics: Alfred Noyes
|
||
Melody: Phil Ochs
|
||
|
||
Em G C
|
||
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
|
||
|
||
Em G C D
|
||
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas
|
||
|
||
Em G Cd
|
||
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
|
||
|
||
Em G B7 Em
|
||
And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding-
|
||
|
||
C G C D
|
||
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
|
||
|
||
|
||
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn yard
|
||
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
|
||
He whistled a tune to the window and who should be waiting there
|
||
But the landlord's black eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter
|
||
Plaiting a red love-knot into her long black hair.
|
||
|
||
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,
|
||
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
|
||
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
|
||
Then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight,
|
||
I will come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
|
||
|
||
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
|
||
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
|
||
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
|
||
A red-coat troop came marching, marching, marching-
|
||
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn door.
|
||
|
||
They tied her up to attention, with many a sickening jest,
|
||
And they bound a musket beside her, with the barrel to her breast.
|
||
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
|
||
"Look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight,
|
||
I will come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
|
||
|
||
"Look for me by moonlight." The hoof-beats ringing clear.
|
||
"Watch for me by moonlight." Were they deaf they did not hear?
|
||
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
|
||
Then her finger moved in the moonlight, her musket shattered the moonlight
|
||
Shattered her breast in the moonlight, and warned him - with her death.
|
||
|
||
He turned, he spurred him westward; he did not know who stood
|
||
Bowed with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood.
|
||
Not 'til the dawn he heard it; his face grew gray to hear
|
||
How Bess, the landlord's daughter, the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
|
||
Had watched for her love by moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
|
||
|
||
* more *
|
||
49
|
||
The Highwayman (cont.)
|
||
|
||
Back he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
|
||
With the white road smoking behind him, and his rapier brandished high!
|
||
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat,
|
||
When they shot him down on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.
|
||
|
||
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees
|
||
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
|
||
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
|
||
A highwayman comes riding, riding, riding-
|
||
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door.
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
HUNG OVER BARBARIAN
|
||
-Robert Asprin
|
||
tune: "Teddy-bears' Picnic"
|
||
|
||
|
||
E Am E Am E Am E Am
|
||
If you go out on the streets today, you better not go alone!
|
||
C G C G C G C
|
||
Do not go out on the streets today, it's safer to stay at home!
|
||
F G C Am G
|
||
The least excuse that ever there was today will mean a challenge because
|
||
F C F C G C
|
||
From drink last night old Fafhrd is quite....hungover!
|
||
|
||
C
|
||
Hungover Barbarian! You'd best beware of him,
|
||
G7
|
||
he's certainly not himself today!
|
||
|
||
If you see him better run
|
||
C
|
||
'cause you'll get killed if you get in his way!
|
||
|
||
he is in a cloud of gloom, so give him lots of room
|
||
F
|
||
and better not come too near!
|
||
C
|
||
you gentle folk who value your lives better stay at home today
|
||
F G7 C
|
||
'cause Fafhrd's hung over out to HERE!
|
||
|
||
E7
|
||
so......
|
||
|
||
|
||
If you go out on the streets today, you better go with a guard!
|
||
There's lots of pleasanter ways to die than be crushed by a ton of lard
|
||
If you pretend my mountainous friend is not a threat, you'll come to your end
|
||
For Fafhrd's quite prepared for a fight..........
|
||
He'd like to pound you into the ground...........
|
||
You'd best beware! You'd better take care!
|
||
His head and brain in TERRIBLE pain..............
|
||
from drink last night old Fafhrd is quite........hung over!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
50
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
I'M A PELICAN AND I'M OK
|
||
-Anonymous
|
||
tune: "I'm A Lumberjack..."
|
||
|
||
Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK
|
||
I work all night and I work all day!
|
||
|
||
I autocrat, I run events, I order the lava'trie!
|
||
On Sundays I clean up the camp; I'm always last to leave!
|
||
Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK
|
||
I work all night and I work all day!
|
||
|
||
I wear this bird around my neck to impress both young and old
|
||
My talents they are many, and younger Peers I scold!
|
||
Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK
|
||
I work all night and I work all day!
|
||
|
||
When things go wrong it's me you seek to put them back on course
|
||
If I'm not around to steer things right: there's always God, of course!
|
||
Oh I'm a Pelican and I'm OK
|
||
I work all night and I work all day!
|
||
|
||
We stand around and polish Crowns of all the Royalty
|
||
We fix Their Thrones, we make no bones, for Pelicans are we!
|
||
Yes, I'm a Pelican I'm proud to say
|
||
that if it's done right it's done MY way!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
I'M A VIKING
|
||
-Elfrida the Landless
|
||
(tune: "Oh, Susannah")
|
||
|
||
Oh, I come from Scandanavia with my helm upon my head,
|
||
And I won't be going home again 'till all of you are dead!
|
||
|
||
(CHORUS): I'm a Viking! For that's the thing to be!
|
||
There's no greater joy than fighting
|
||
for a berserker like me!
|
||
|
||
Oh, we had a raid the other night when everything was still
|
||
We waited until moonrise and came shrieking down the hill!
|
||
The blood was pouring down the streets, the women ran and screamed;
|
||
It was better fun than anyone could possibly have dreamed!
|
||
|
||
The loot we loaded on the ships was too great to be told
|
||
The slaves we towed behind on rafts, for ballast we had gold!
|
||
We took home herds of cows and pigs, we took home chests of jewels
|
||
Why should we work, when we can loot from futile, puny fools?
|
||
|
||
Oh, we're hairy-chested fighters and we have no time for games
|
||
What we don't take back home with us we leave behind in flames
|
||
And if you see a Viking ship, there's nothing you can do
|
||
Just kiss your wife, and cross yourself, and bid the world adieu!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
51
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE INNKEEPER'S SONG
|
||
-James Treebull
|
||
(aka: Trooper)
|
||
copyright 1989 James Gahar (BMI)
|
||
|
||
Am F G Am
|
||
I have been a traveller, I've seen the far countries
|
||
Am F C G
|
||
Marched across the meadows - sailed across the seas
|
||
Am F G Am
|
||
Faced the fearsome slaughter in the madness of the line
|
||
Am F G Am
|
||
Watched the death of innocence - surprised when it was mine.
|
||
|
||
I have heard the seagulls where the ocean washes sand
|
||
Seen the cold steel flashing, felt the hot blood on my hands,
|
||
Heard the screams of wounded men, just praying to be dead
|
||
Followed many leaders, and was followed where I led.
|
||
|
||
When I found a lady-love, 'twas mostly quick and cold
|
||
We bartered for their services with cloth, and food and gold
|
||
But when the army marched away, some few might tag along
|
||
To walk behind the baggage train, singing bawdy songs.
|
||
|
||
Now, I'm old, but hale enough, with many tales to tell
|
||
My shares brought me this roadside inn, which suits my temper well
|
||
But when the weather's cold, my wounds will ache again, I fear,
|
||
I kill the pain with sleeping-herbs, and mugs of barley beer.
|
||
|
||
You say you're for the cavalry, the dashing cavaliers
|
||
But horsemen, too, must fight on foot, when battle comes too near
|
||
So if by chance you find yourself dismounted in the line
|
||
Keep always in between two friends, with one eye out behind.
|
||
|
||
And take with ye my hanger, boy, 'twas ever at my side;
|
||
There's some say she's a lucky blade, it often saved my hide
|
||
And if your Ma had lived I'm sure she'd weep to see ya go
|
||
As it is..Godspeed, my son! I've taught you all I know.
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
52
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
IOSEPH'S SONG
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
copyright 1972, 1989 W. J. Bethancourt III
|
||
(Tune: same as "Song Of Golias")
|
||
|
||
Some folks call me many names, others call me crazy
|
||
Tom O'Bedlam's son am I, for my mind is hazy!
|
||
I'd rather sing a song than work (if it's not too phrasey!)
|
||
Lengthy rhymes don't bother me....truth to tell: I'm lazy!
|
||
|
||
Yang, your yurt is very nice, and your Horde is smelly,
|
||
And I'm sure that yak-meat will nicely fill one's belly!
|
||
But remember this one line, or you're not worth jelly:
|
||
FIRST you plunder, THEN you burn! That's how to be rakehelly!
|
||
|
||
My Lady Lorelei your eyes do drive me to distraction
|
||
And the lovely Care-Cheri causes....petrifaction!
|
||
But I, and they, quite taken are, so I can't take action...
|
||
Therefore, Ladies, fill my cup; I'll drink to stupefaction!
|
||
|
||
Now Atenveldt your fighters, all, are most good and gentle
|
||
And the Ladies, bless 'em all, are most ornamental!
|
||
But that little Nikki-Toad....has me sentimental
|
||
Though with boffer in her hand she is argumental!
|
||
|
||
This stupid little song, m'lords, is mostly sung in Latin
|
||
By the Goliards, of course, from vespers clear to matins!
|
||
But I prefer a coarser cloth over silk or satins
|
||
English is more understood, mine enemies to flatten!
|
||
|
||
Good People all, I've made my Song, its' music's well-recited
|
||
But my voice could use some work; the flowers it has blighted!
|
||
It's rude and rusty, grim and bad, and squeaky like a door-hinge,
|
||
But I'm a better Bard than you: I found a rhyme for "orange!"
|
||
|
||
(note to verse 4: Nichelle of Whitewolfe is now a very beautiful young
|
||
Lady. This verse was written when she was 2 years old. Ask HER!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
53
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
I SING OF DEAD BUNNIES
|
||
-Anonymous, but Moonwulf started it!
|
||
tune: "Sweet Betsy From Pike"
|
||
|
||
I sing of dead bunnies, and burnt baby chicks
|
||
Barbecued squirrels, and hamsters on sticks
|
||
Ducklings in blenders, and frogs off the road
|
||
Opossums on fenders and deep french-fried toad!
|
||
|
||
Sliced and diced sparrows, dead dogs on the lawn
|
||
Cats riddled with arrows, and disemboweled faun
|
||
Pickled canaries, and clubbed baby seals
|
||
Mice served in berries, and turtles 'neath wheels
|
||
|
||
Minced baby earwigs, koala fillet
|
||
Rat Pie with custard, and cockroach puree
|
||
Fred's little brother, and Mystery Beast:
|
||
These are the things that they served at the Feast!
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
54
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY.......
|
||
-Ioseph of Locksley
|
||
copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
|
||
(The tune should be obvious!)
|
||
|
||
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
|
||
She was worried that "something might show.."
|
||
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
|
||
And the poor thing did NOT want to go...
|
||
|
||
(2 - 3 - 4, tell the people what she wore!)
|
||
|
||
It was an itsy bitsy teeny weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
That she wore, for the first time, that day.
|
||
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
And in her apartment she wanted to stay!
|
||
|
||
One day in the Kingdom of the Middle
|
||
It happened at a Tourney one day:
|
||
The Mongols invaded the Middle
|
||
But the Middle did not want to play...
|
||
|
||
(eins - zwei - drei, but the Dark Horde wouldn't die!)
|
||
|
||
It was an itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie
|
||
That they saw, for the first time, that day.
|
||
An itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie
|
||
And the Mongols did NOT go away!
|
||
|
||
Now the Heralds made up a new Rulebook
|
||
And to read it is some kind of gas!
|
||
It's a bureaucrat's dream, this new Rulebook
|
||
Now NOBODY'S blazon can pass!
|
||
|
||
(Win - Place - Show, tell the Heralds where to go!)
|
||
|
||
(insert Bronx cheer!)
|
||
|
||
I want an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
On my shield, as my blazon, today!
|
||
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
But "that's offensive" the Heralds all say!
|
||
|
||
I sat down at the Revel last evening
|
||
To a feast of green meat, and Rat Pie...
|
||
It was cold, and disgusting, and greasy
|
||
And I just want to upchuck and die!
|
||
|
||
(6 - 7 - 8, tell them what was on your plate!)
|
||
|
||
It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
With a side dish of cold cabbage pie!
|
||
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
|
||
With the fur on, and NOTHING inside!
|
||
|
||
(This was written to bug my sweet wife to death with...........heheh!)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
55
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|
||
JOHN BARLEYCORN
|
||
|
||
There were three men come out of the West
|
||
Their fortunes for to try,
|
||
And these three men made a solemn vow:
|
||
John Barleycorn should die!
|
||
John Barleycorn should die!
|
||
(nb: 4th line of each verse is sung twice)
|
||
|
||
They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,
|
||
Threw clods upon his head,
|
||
And these three men made a solemn vow:
|
||
John Barleycorn was dead!
|
||
|
||
CHORUS: Fa la la la, it's a lovely day!
|
||
Sing fa la la lay oh!
|
||
Fa la la la, it's a lovely day!
|
||
Sing fa la la lay oh!
|
||
|
||
They let him lie for a very long time
|
||
'Til the rain from Heaven did fall,
|
||
Then Little Sir John sprung up his head,
|
||
And so amazed them all!
|
||
|
||
They let him stand 'til Midsummer tide,
|
||
'Til he grew both pale and wan,
|
||
Then Little Sir John he grew a long beard,
|
||
And so became a man!
|
||
|
||
They hired men with the sythes so sharp
|
||
To cut him off at the knee
|
||
They rolled him and tied him about the waist,
|
||
And used him barbarously!
|
||
|
||
They hired men with the sharp pitchforks
|
||
To pierce him to the heart,
|
||
And the loader he served him worse than that,
|
||
For he tied him in a cart!
|
||
|
||
They wheeled him around and around the field,
|
||
'Til they came to a barn,
|
||
And there they made a solemn mow
|
||
Of poor John Barleycorn,
|
||
|
||
They hired men with the crab-tree sticks
|
||
To strip him skin from bone
|
||
And the Miller he served him worse than that:
|
||
For he ground him between two stones!
|
||
|
||
They have wheeled him here and wheeled him there
|
||
And wheeled him to a barn,
|
||
And they have served him worse than that
|
||
They have bunged him in a vat!
|
||
|
||
(more)
|
||
|
||
|
||
56
|
||
John Barleycorn (cont.):
|
||
|
||
They have worked their will on John Barleycorn
|
||
But he lived to tell the tale;
|
||
For they pour him out of an old brown jug,
|
||
And they call him home-brewed ale!
|
||
|
||
Here's Little Sir John in a nut-brown bowl,
|
||
And brandy in a glass!
|
||
And Little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
|
||
Proved the stronger man at last!
|
||
|
||
For the huntsman he can't hunt the fox
|
||
Nor loudly blow his horn,
|
||
And the tinker can't mend kettles nor pots
|
||
Without John Barleycorn!
|
||
|
||
(Note: sing the chorus after every other verse. For SCA use, this song is very
|
||
effective as a solo performance in the beginning, with more and more people
|
||
joining the chorus as the High Table is served, ending (preferably) with a
|
||
presentation of home-made mead or ale.)
|
||
|
||
*
|
||
|