Whisky for my men, beer for my horses!
- Thread starter The_Gunslinger658
- Start date
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar
They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could loose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Now we're old and grey Fernando
Since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could loose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando.....
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar
They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could loose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Now we're old and grey Fernando
Since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could loose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando.....
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jayaint said:
Hmm, I love the song Chop Suey. System of a Down's "Spiders" song may work, too (except the V chip part).
System of a Down
Spiders
The piercing radiant moon,
The storming of poor June,
All the life running through her hair,
Approaching guiding light,
Our shallow years in fright,
Dreams are made winding through my head,
Through my head,
Before you know, Awake,
Your lives are open wide,
The V-chip gives them sight,
Of all the life running through her hair,
The spiders all in tune,
The evening of the moon,
Dreams are made winding through my head,
Through my head,
Before you know, Awake
Through my head, through my head.
Before you know,
Before you know I will be waiting, all awake,
Dreams are made winding through her hair,
Dreams are made winding through her hair.
I picture an alien, dream-like world with spiders everywhere
Scarbonac
Not An Evil Twin
"The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood red banner streams afar:
Who follows in His train?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came;
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant’s brandished steel,
The lion’s gory mane;
They bowed their heads the death to feel-"
"...and old Danny fell, turning round and round and round, like a penny-whirligig; twenty thousand miles it was, for he took half an hour to fall..."
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood red banner streams afar:
Who follows in His train?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came;
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant’s brandished steel,
The lion’s gory mane;
They bowed their heads the death to feel-"
"...and old Danny fell, turning round and round and round, like a penny-whirligig; twenty thousand miles it was, for he took half an hour to fall..."
TheAuldGrump
First Post
Now the Green Blade Riseth (Greater Lansing Spinster's Guild)
Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
Wheat that in the dark Earth many days has lain.
Love lives again, that with the dead has been.
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
Now the spirit stirreth at the stricken root
From the rotted tree stump springs a living shoot
Mold, muck and clay bring for the green of May
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
In the Earth they laid them in a barren place
Witches from the burning nameless and erased.
Rising again, their ashes feed the grain.
We are come again like wheat that springeth green.
Now the wasteland bloometh from the hidden bud
in the rocky desert, rivers brim and flood
Dry bones will sing, the quickening of spring
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
A pagan filk of the hymn by the same title.
Oak, Ash, and Thorn (Words, Rudyard Kipling. Music, Peter Bellamy)
Of all the trees that grow so fair, old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the sun than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn good sirs,
All on a midsummer's morn.
Surely we sing of no little thing
In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Oak of the clay lived many a day o'er ever Aeneas began
Ash of the loam was a lady at home when Brut was an outlaw man,
And Thorn of the down saw new Troy town, from which was London born
Witness hereby the ancient try of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Sing . . .
Yew that is old, in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and Beech for cups also
But when you have killed, and you bowl it is filled, and your
shoes are clean outworn
Back you must speed for all that you need to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn
Sing . . .
Elm, she hates mankind, and waits till every gust be laid,
To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade,
But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the
horn,
He'll taketh no wrong when he lyeth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and
Thorn
Sing . . .
Oh, do not tell the priest our plight, or he would call it a sin,
But we've been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring summer in,
And we bring you good news by word of mouth, good news for cattle
and corn
Now is the sun come up from the south, by Oak, and Ash, and
Thorn.
Sing . . .
The lyrics are from Puck of Pook's Hill, as sung by Rogers & Barrand on Dark Ship's in the Forest, a great album for gaming...
The Auld Grump
Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
Wheat that in the dark Earth many days has lain.
Love lives again, that with the dead has been.
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
Now the spirit stirreth at the stricken root
From the rotted tree stump springs a living shoot
Mold, muck and clay bring for the green of May
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
In the Earth they laid them in a barren place
Witches from the burning nameless and erased.
Rising again, their ashes feed the grain.
We are come again like wheat that springeth green.
Now the wasteland bloometh from the hidden bud
in the rocky desert, rivers brim and flood
Dry bones will sing, the quickening of spring
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green
A pagan filk of the hymn by the same title.
Oak, Ash, and Thorn (Words, Rudyard Kipling. Music, Peter Bellamy)
Of all the trees that grow so fair, old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the sun than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn good sirs,
All on a midsummer's morn.
Surely we sing of no little thing
In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Oak of the clay lived many a day o'er ever Aeneas began
Ash of the loam was a lady at home when Brut was an outlaw man,
And Thorn of the down saw new Troy town, from which was London born
Witness hereby the ancient try of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.
Sing . . .
Yew that is old, in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and Beech for cups also
But when you have killed, and you bowl it is filled, and your
shoes are clean outworn
Back you must speed for all that you need to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn
Sing . . .
Elm, she hates mankind, and waits till every gust be laid,
To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade,
But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the
horn,
He'll taketh no wrong when he lyeth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and
Thorn
Sing . . .
Oh, do not tell the priest our plight, or he would call it a sin,
But we've been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring summer in,
And we bring you good news by word of mouth, good news for cattle
and corn
Now is the sun come up from the south, by Oak, and Ash, and
Thorn.
Sing . . .
The lyrics are from Puck of Pook's Hill, as sung by Rogers & Barrand on Dark Ship's in the Forest, a great album for gaming...
The Auld Grump
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Rostek
Explorer
The Gods of Metal Live!
Ah, but Tennyson inevitably leads to Iron Maiden's The Trooper :metal scream:
The Trooper
lyrics by
Iron Maiden from
Live After Death
You’ll take my life but I’ll take yours too
You’ll fire you musket but I’ll run you through
So when your waiting for the next attack
You’d better stand there’s no turning back
The bugle sounds as the charge begins
But on this battlefield no one wins
The smell of arcrid smoke and horses breath
As you plunge into a certain death
The horse he sweats with fear we break to run
The mighty roar of the russian guns
And as we race towards the human wall
The screams of pain as my comrades fall
We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground
And the russians fire another round
We get so near yet so far away
We won’t live to fight another day
We get so close near enough to fight
When a russian gets me in his sights
He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow
A burst of rounds take my horse below
And as I lay there gazing at the sky
My body’s numb and my throat is dry
And as I lay forgotten and alone
Without a tear I draw my parting groan
Ah, but Tennyson inevitably leads to Iron Maiden's The Trooper :metal scream:
The Trooper
lyrics by
Iron Maiden from
Live After Death
You’ll take my life but I’ll take yours too
You’ll fire you musket but I’ll run you through
So when your waiting for the next attack
You’d better stand there’s no turning back
The bugle sounds as the charge begins
But on this battlefield no one wins
The smell of arcrid smoke and horses breath
As you plunge into a certain death
The horse he sweats with fear we break to run
The mighty roar of the russian guns
And as we race towards the human wall
The screams of pain as my comrades fall
We hurdle bodies that lay on the ground
And the russians fire another round
We get so near yet so far away
We won’t live to fight another day
We get so close near enough to fight
When a russian gets me in his sights
He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow
A burst of rounds take my horse below
And as I lay there gazing at the sky
My body’s numb and my throat is dry
And as I lay forgotten and alone
Without a tear I draw my parting groan
ssampier said:I like the poem called Charge of the Light Brigade. It gets me fired up to run a dark, depressing war game.
My favorites from the poem are bold:
The Charge of the Light Brigade
Lord Tennyson Alfred
My favorite would be "The Witch of the Westmerland", either the Stan Rogers or Archie Fisher version...
THE WITCH OF THE WESTMERLAND
-Archie Fisher
Pale was the wounded Knight who bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field,
saying "Brack water cold and clear will never heal your wounds.
There's none but the Witch of the Westmerland to make thee hale &
sound."
"So turn, turn your stallion's head 'til his red mane flies in the wind,
And the Rider of the Moon pass by and the Bright Star falls behind.”
Clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by
Below the hills were the Brightest Star when he heard the owlet cry.
Saying, "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westmerland that dwells by the winding mere."
And it's weary by the Ullswater, and the misty brakefern way,
till through the cleft of the Kirkstane Pass the winding water lay.
"Oh lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk,
And thee my steed may graze thy fill, for I must dismount and walk.
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call,
For I fear 'ere the sun does rise this morn you will serve me best of
all.
And it's down to the water's side he's born the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in to seek what the lake might yield.
Then wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she,
One half the form of a maiden fair, with a jet black mare's body!
Then loud, long, and shrill he blew, til his steed was by his side,
Overhead the grey hawk flew, and swiftly he did ride,
saying, "Course well, my brindled hound, and catch me the jet-black
mare,
Stoop and strike my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair!"
She said, "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword, lay down thy rowan shield,
For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded on the
field."
She stood in a gown of the velvet fine, bound round with a silver chain,
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice, and three times 'round
again.
She's bound his wounds with the goldenrod; full fast in her arms he's
lain.
And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day.
She said, "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and your good grey
hawk in hand,
There's none can harm the Knight that's lain with the Witch of the
Westmerland!"
Or, for those times when nothing but revenge will do...
"The Temper of Revenge" , by Julia Ecklar
We were sworn to protect a timeless land,
Our steel pledged to greater goals,
Meant to serve what our Lords deemed as good,
Part of a greater whole.
We swore Lords a pledge with breath and tongue,
A pledge I now break with my heart.
Those beliefs impede what I'm called now to do,
My allegiance is sundered apart.
My soul was torn from me this day,
Half of me lies interned in his grave.
That shattered life I can never retrieve,
No well-meaning wizard can save!
So find me a horse as red as the sun,
Find me a blade that will make their blood run!
I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,
So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!
Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!
Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.
"To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,
But Vengeance has tempered my sword,
yes, vengeance has tempered my sword...
My companion was made to be half of me,
We were sealed in both body and soul.
What is life to a human alone?
How can one unpartnered be whole?
He was slaughtered at night -- not a warrior's death...
All Good now seems useless and vile,
For Good let my fragile world be destroyed,
My oaths by such lies were defiled.
Forgive me, my Lords, for what I do.
Know that this sinner is suffering too...
But your virtues pure don't allow what I plan,
And by God, I'll pay killers their due!
So find me a horse as red as the sun,
Find me a blade that will make their blood run!
I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,
So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!
Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!
Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.
"To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,
But Vengeance has tempered my sword,
yes, vengeance has tempered my sword...
And, finally, the best war song ever...
"March of Cambredth" by Heather Alexander
Axes flash, broadsword swing,
Shining armour's piercing ring
Horses run with polished shield,
Fight Those Bastards till They Yield
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Follow orders as you're told,
Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold
Fight until you die or drop,
A Force Like Ours is Hard to Stop
Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight till You're No Longer Sane
Let not one damn cur pass by,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Guard your women and children well,
Send These Bastards Back to Hell
We'll teach them the ways of war,
They Won't Come Here Any More
Use your shield and use your head,
Fight till Every One is Dead
Raise the flag up to the sky,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Dawn has broke, the time has come,
Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum
We'll win the war and pay the toll,
We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
REPEAT FIRST VERSE
THE WITCH OF THE WESTMERLAND
-Archie Fisher
Pale was the wounded Knight who bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field,
saying "Brack water cold and clear will never heal your wounds.
There's none but the Witch of the Westmerland to make thee hale &
sound."
"So turn, turn your stallion's head 'til his red mane flies in the wind,
And the Rider of the Moon pass by and the Bright Star falls behind.”
Clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by
Below the hills were the Brightest Star when he heard the owlet cry.
Saying, "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westmerland that dwells by the winding mere."
And it's weary by the Ullswater, and the misty brakefern way,
till through the cleft of the Kirkstane Pass the winding water lay.
"Oh lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk,
And thee my steed may graze thy fill, for I must dismount and walk.
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call,
For I fear 'ere the sun does rise this morn you will serve me best of
all.
And it's down to the water's side he's born the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in to seek what the lake might yield.
Then wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she,
One half the form of a maiden fair, with a jet black mare's body!
Then loud, long, and shrill he blew, til his steed was by his side,
Overhead the grey hawk flew, and swiftly he did ride,
saying, "Course well, my brindled hound, and catch me the jet-black
mare,
Stoop and strike my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair!"
She said, "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword, lay down thy rowan shield,
For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded on the
field."
She stood in a gown of the velvet fine, bound round with a silver chain,
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice, and three times 'round
again.
She's bound his wounds with the goldenrod; full fast in her arms he's
lain.
And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day.
She said, "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and your good grey
hawk in hand,
There's none can harm the Knight that's lain with the Witch of the
Westmerland!"
Or, for those times when nothing but revenge will do...
"The Temper of Revenge" , by Julia Ecklar
We were sworn to protect a timeless land,
Our steel pledged to greater goals,
Meant to serve what our Lords deemed as good,
Part of a greater whole.
We swore Lords a pledge with breath and tongue,
A pledge I now break with my heart.
Those beliefs impede what I'm called now to do,
My allegiance is sundered apart.
My soul was torn from me this day,
Half of me lies interned in his grave.
That shattered life I can never retrieve,
No well-meaning wizard can save!
So find me a horse as red as the sun,
Find me a blade that will make their blood run!
I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,
So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!
Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!
Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.
"To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,
But Vengeance has tempered my sword,
yes, vengeance has tempered my sword...
My companion was made to be half of me,
We were sealed in both body and soul.
What is life to a human alone?
How can one unpartnered be whole?
He was slaughtered at night -- not a warrior's death...
All Good now seems useless and vile,
For Good let my fragile world be destroyed,
My oaths by such lies were defiled.
Forgive me, my Lords, for what I do.
Know that this sinner is suffering too...
But your virtues pure don't allow what I plan,
And by God, I'll pay killers their due!
So find me a horse as red as the sun,
Find me a blade that will make their blood run!
I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,
So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!
Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!
Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.
"To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,
But Vengeance has tempered my sword,
yes, vengeance has tempered my sword...
And, finally, the best war song ever...
"March of Cambredth" by Heather Alexander
Axes flash, broadsword swing,
Shining armour's piercing ring
Horses run with polished shield,
Fight Those Bastards till They Yield
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Follow orders as you're told,
Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold
Fight until you die or drop,
A Force Like Ours is Hard to Stop
Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight till You're No Longer Sane
Let not one damn cur pass by,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Guard your women and children well,
Send These Bastards Back to Hell
We'll teach them the ways of war,
They Won't Come Here Any More
Use your shield and use your head,
Fight till Every One is Dead
Raise the flag up to the sky,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Dawn has broke, the time has come,
Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum
We'll win the war and pay the toll,
We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul
Midnight mare and blood red roan,
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own
Sound the horn and call the cry,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
REPEAT FIRST VERSE
TheAuldGrump
First Post
Witch of the Westmoreland! I haven't thought of that in years.
How about the other side of the coin?
ALISON GROSS
Alison Gross that lives in yon tower
The ugliest witch in the North Country
Has trysted me one day up to her bower
And many a fair speech she made to me
She stroked my head and she combed my hair
She set me down softly on her knee
Saying if you will be my lover so true
So many good things I will give to you
Away, away you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
I never will be your lover so true
And I wish I were out of your company
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the North Country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the North Country
She showed me a mantle of red scarlet
With golden flowers and fringes fine
says if you will be my lover so true
this goodly gift it shall be thine
She showed me a shirt of softest silk
Well wrought with pearls about the band
Saying if you shall be my lover so true
This goodly gift you shall command
She brought me a cup of the good red gold
Well set with jewels so fair to see
Saying if you will be my lover so true
This goodly gift I will give to you
Away, away you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
I never will be your lover so true
And I wish I were out of your company
She's turned her right and round about
And thrice she blew on a grass green horn
She swore by the moon and the stars above
She'd make me rue the day I was born
And out she's taken a silver wand
And turned her three times round and round
She muttered such words till my strength it did fail
And she's turned me into an ugly worm
And
THE LAIDLEY WORM.
THE King is gone from Bamborough Castle,
Long may the Princess mourn;
Long may She stand on the castle wall,
Looking for his return.
It fell out on a day the King
Brought the Queen with him home;
And all the lords in our country
To welcome them did come.
"Oh! welcome, father" the lady cried,
"Unto our halls and bowers;
And so are you, my stepmother,
For all that's here is yours"
A lord said, wondering while she spake,
"This Princess of the north
Surpasses all of female kind
In beauty and in worth."
The envious Queen replied at last,
"Ye might have excepted me
In a few hours I will her bring
Down to a low degree.
"I will liken her to a Laidley worm,
That warps about the stone
And not till Childy Wynd comes back
Shall she again be won."
The Princess stood at her bower door
Laughing; who could her blame?
But e'er the next day's sun went down
A long worm she became.
For seven miles east and seven miles west
And seven miles north and south
No blade of grass or corn could grow
So venomous was her mouth.
Word went east and word went west,
And over the sea did go;
The Child of Wynd got wit of it,
Which filled his heart with woe.
He called straight his merry men all,
They thirty were and three
I wish were at Spindleston,
This desperate worm to see.
"We have no time now here to waste,
Hence quickly let us sail;
My only sister Margaret Something,
I fear, doth ail."
They built a ship without delay,
With masts of the rowan-tree,
With flutt'ring sails of silk so fine,
And set her on the sea.
The Queen looked out of her bower window
To see what she could see;
There she espied a gallant ship
Sailing upon the sea
When she beheld the silken sails
Full glancing in the sun,
To sink the ship she sent away
Her witch wives every one.
Their spells were vain; the hags returned
To the Queen in sorrowful mood,
Crying that "Witches have no power
Where there is rowan-tree wood"
The worm leapt up, the worm leapt down,
She plaited round the stane,
And aye as the ship came to the land,
She banged it off again.
The Child then ran out of her reach
The ship on Budle sand;
And jumping into the shallow sea,
Securely got to land.
And now he drew his berry-brown sword
And laid it on her head
And swore if she did harm to him,
That he would strike her dead.
"Oh, quit thy sword and bend thy bow,
And give me kisses three
If I'm not won e'er the sun go doon,
Won I shall never be.''
He quitted his sword, and bent his bow,
He gave her kisses three;
She crept into a hole a worm,
But out stept a lady.
He has taken his mantle from him about,
And it he wrapt her in
And they are up t' Bamborough Castle,
As fast as they could win.
Her absence and her serpent shape
The King had long deplored;
He now rejoiced to See them both
Again to him restored
The Queen they wanted, whom they found
All pale and sore afraid,
Because she knew her power must yield
To Childy Wynd's, who said:
"Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch,
An ill death mayst thou dee
As thou my sister has lik'ned,
So lik'ned shalt thou be.
"I will turn you into a toad,
That on the ground doth wend
And won, won shalt thou never be
Till this world hath an end."
Now on the ground near Ida's tower
She crawls a loathsome toad,
And venom spits on every maid
She meets upon the road.
By the way, folks looking for traditional songs, including alternate lerics, look at the digitrad forum at Mudcat.org - there is a huge database of lyrics there.
The Auld Grump
How about the other side of the coin?
ALISON GROSS
Alison Gross that lives in yon tower
The ugliest witch in the North Country
Has trysted me one day up to her bower
And many a fair speech she made to me
She stroked my head and she combed my hair
She set me down softly on her knee
Saying if you will be my lover so true
So many good things I will give to you
Away, away you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
I never will be your lover so true
And I wish I were out of your company
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the North Country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the North Country
She showed me a mantle of red scarlet
With golden flowers and fringes fine
says if you will be my lover so true
this goodly gift it shall be thine
She showed me a shirt of softest silk
Well wrought with pearls about the band
Saying if you shall be my lover so true
This goodly gift you shall command
She brought me a cup of the good red gold
Well set with jewels so fair to see
Saying if you will be my lover so true
This goodly gift I will give to you
Away, away you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
I never will be your lover so true
And I wish I were out of your company
She's turned her right and round about
And thrice she blew on a grass green horn
She swore by the moon and the stars above
She'd make me rue the day I was born
And out she's taken a silver wand
And turned her three times round and round
She muttered such words till my strength it did fail
And she's turned me into an ugly worm
And
THE LAIDLEY WORM.
THE King is gone from Bamborough Castle,
Long may the Princess mourn;
Long may She stand on the castle wall,
Looking for his return.
It fell out on a day the King
Brought the Queen with him home;
And all the lords in our country
To welcome them did come.
"Oh! welcome, father" the lady cried,
"Unto our halls and bowers;
And so are you, my stepmother,
For all that's here is yours"
A lord said, wondering while she spake,
"This Princess of the north
Surpasses all of female kind
In beauty and in worth."
The envious Queen replied at last,
"Ye might have excepted me
In a few hours I will her bring
Down to a low degree.
"I will liken her to a Laidley worm,
That warps about the stone
And not till Childy Wynd comes back
Shall she again be won."
The Princess stood at her bower door
Laughing; who could her blame?
But e'er the next day's sun went down
A long worm she became.
For seven miles east and seven miles west
And seven miles north and south
No blade of grass or corn could grow
So venomous was her mouth.
Word went east and word went west,
And over the sea did go;
The Child of Wynd got wit of it,
Which filled his heart with woe.
He called straight his merry men all,
They thirty were and three
I wish were at Spindleston,
This desperate worm to see.
"We have no time now here to waste,
Hence quickly let us sail;
My only sister Margaret Something,
I fear, doth ail."
They built a ship without delay,
With masts of the rowan-tree,
With flutt'ring sails of silk so fine,
And set her on the sea.
The Queen looked out of her bower window
To see what she could see;
There she espied a gallant ship
Sailing upon the sea
When she beheld the silken sails
Full glancing in the sun,
To sink the ship she sent away
Her witch wives every one.
Their spells were vain; the hags returned
To the Queen in sorrowful mood,
Crying that "Witches have no power
Where there is rowan-tree wood"
The worm leapt up, the worm leapt down,
She plaited round the stane,
And aye as the ship came to the land,
She banged it off again.
The Child then ran out of her reach
The ship on Budle sand;
And jumping into the shallow sea,
Securely got to land.
And now he drew his berry-brown sword
And laid it on her head
And swore if she did harm to him,
That he would strike her dead.
"Oh, quit thy sword and bend thy bow,
And give me kisses three
If I'm not won e'er the sun go doon,
Won I shall never be.''
He quitted his sword, and bent his bow,
He gave her kisses three;
She crept into a hole a worm,
But out stept a lady.
He has taken his mantle from him about,
And it he wrapt her in
And they are up t' Bamborough Castle,
As fast as they could win.
Her absence and her serpent shape
The King had long deplored;
He now rejoiced to See them both
Again to him restored
The Queen they wanted, whom they found
All pale and sore afraid,
Because she knew her power must yield
To Childy Wynd's, who said:
"Woe be to thee, thou wicked witch,
An ill death mayst thou dee
As thou my sister has lik'ned,
So lik'ned shalt thou be.
"I will turn you into a toad,
That on the ground doth wend
And won, won shalt thou never be
Till this world hath an end."
Now on the ground near Ida's tower
She crawls a loathsome toad,
And venom spits on every maid
She meets upon the road.
By the way, folks looking for traditional songs, including alternate lerics, look at the digitrad forum at Mudcat.org - there is a huge database of lyrics there.
The Auld Grump
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