Page 193 SONG Dancer's Vanity Tune The Golden Vanity Once there was a group and it fought
Page 193
SONG
Dancer's Vanity
Tune: The Golden Vanity
Once there was a group and it fought with Tree-girt-sea
And the name of the group was the North Woods Barony-
And they feared they would be taken by the Mongol enemy
As they marched along the Inland, Inland, Inland--
Marched along the Inland Sea.
Then up spoke a Dancer with her little sister, she
Bravely said to the King, "What would you give to me
If I dance along the side of the Mongol enemy
And turn them from the North Woods Barony,
In their march along the Inland Sea?"
"Well, I will give you silver and I will give you gold
And my own chosen queen each of you in turn shall be
If you dance along the side of the Mongol enemy
And turn them from the North Woods Barony
In their march along the Inland Sea."
So she rode to the camp of the Mongol enemy
To the camp of the Horde, fierce warriors proud and free
She said "Take me to your leader or your warlord if you please
I am sent here from the North Woods Barony
I am sure that he would speak with me."
** Then she met with the warlord of the Mongol enemy
And she said to the Warlord, "All that you can see--
And that which you cannot I would freely give to thee
If you overlook the North Woods Barony
In your march along the Inland Sea."
** - This line was unreadable, so I made something up.
(continued)
Page 194
SONG
Dancer's Vanity
(continued)
"Well, well do I like plunder and well do I like gold
And the trust of my men is a thing most dear to me
But when I am confronted by a beauty such as thee
The Devil take the North Woods Barony!
We'll overlook them eagerly!"
She returned, the next morn, to the North Woods Barony
And she said to the King "We've achieved a victory
We have turned aside the march of the Mongol enemy
Now where is the reward you promised me
The treasures of our Barony?"
"Well some kind of fool you must take me for to be
If you think I would give reward to such as thee
Who has openly consorted with the Mongol enemy
As they failed to reach the North Woods Barony
In their march along the Inland Sea."
Then a great cry arose and all did turn to see
And there in their midst was the Mongol enemy
Who had never ceased their march on the North Woods Barony
They double-crossed the Dancer proud and free,
Just like the North Woods Barony.
"Dear Dancer and dear King," said the Warlord full of glee.
"Did you think you could work your wiles on such as me?
By your own rules we return treachery with treachery
And you never will be rid of foes like me
If you try to deal in treachery!"
Now the moral of my story, please listen while I sing
Is to never trust a Mongol, a Dancer or a King!
For if you do some kind of fool you'll be
And they'll sink you in the Inland, Inland, Inland,
Sink you in the Inland Sea!!!
Page 195
SONG
Vashti's Song
By: Valeria Richila Navarro
CHORUS- After every verse
Whirl away, Whirl away, Whirl away, child
Dance as your soul professes.
Whirling and whirling as fast as you can,
Like Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
When she dances by the men in the room
Watch with an eye that caresses.
Wishing she'd grant them a favor or boon
She's Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
As a dancer she's known throughout the land
And to such a title confesses.
But limit her not to a single task.
Not Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
Studying rapier with Don Galen now
Fighting with the fire she possesses.
Slowly her stature as fighter shall grow.
She's Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
Now I must admit as she dances by
Sometimes envy my soul possesses.
And I would give anything for just one hour
To be Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
FINAL CHORUS - after regular chorus
Whirl away, Whirl away, Whirl away, child
Dance as your soul professes.
But I would give anything just for one hour.
To be Vashti of the Flaming Tresses.
Page 196
SONG
The Dancer's Lament
By: Lady Desiree de Cambrai
He stood steadfast behind his shield,
Arraigned in purple armory,
But lost the bout and left the field,
To go join in the revelrey.
He asked to dance a step with me,
And dance we did, 'till evenings end.
But as he left, he said to me,
I'll dance a step with you again.
When next he went to take the field,
He offered up his sword to me.
And when his foe did have to yield,
We danced to honor victory.
And while we danced, he shared with me
The feelings he had kept within,
And so 'twas I who said to he,
I'll dance a step with you again.
His love for me he had revealed,
Which made my heart so jittery,
My love for him I kept concealed.
I thought I'd have more time for thee,
But death for you came suddenly,
To stop your heart, and chill your skin,
And on this earth 'twill never be,
I'll dance no step with you again.
One thought alone does comfort me,
When death does come for me, my friend,
And lets my tortured soul fly free,
I'll dance a step with you again!
Page 197
SONG
The Fairest of Them All
By: Vashti of the Flaming Tresses
Here's a toast to all the young men:
Fair and dark and short and tall --
Here's a toast now to the one man,
He's the fairest of them all.
For he's slim and straight and handsome,
And he's graceful and so strong.
And he sets my soul afire,
In his arms I would belong.
Oh, he smiles at all the ladies
But they treat him rough and free.
I would only ever love him
But he never smiles at me.
Oh, there's many who would please me,
I need only tell them, "Yes."
For they court and kiss and tease me,
And yet this I must confess:
That their smiles can never warm me,
And their kisses leave me cold,
So I will wait until he love me --
I will wait, though I grow old.
I'll put on my finest satins,
And I'll scent my hair with thyme,
And I'll sing the sweetest love song,
And I'll win his heart for mine.
Then he'll kiss me in the springtime,
And we'll love the sommer long,
And I'll set his soul afire,
In my arms he will belong.
Here's a toast to all the young men:
Fair and dark and short and tall --
Here's a toast now to the one man,
He's the fairest of them all.
Page 198
SONG
The Riddling Maid.
By: Jed, in Trimaris
A two person, man/woman song.
A horseman he came from the Netherlands Plain,
Through Iberian Mounts to the foothills of Spain,
And from the first cottage, a lady came veiled
As once a young maiden the horseman had hailed.
CHORUS
Where do ye come from, and where do ye go?
I come from the hills to the valley below.
What have you lost sir, and what would you find?
I'd find me my true love, that I left behind.
Tell me then her colors true- was she golden with eyes so blue.
No, oh no, that never can be- both were as black as the fine ebony.
And was her complexion as dark as her hair-
were her lips so pale and fair.
Oh, no, she was fair as the winters white snows-
her lips were as red as the ruby red rose.
And when did you leave here to wend on your way?
Would she not wed another the very next day.
Though its seven long years since the first winters shill
I swear my true love is true to me still.
She lifted her hand to the fine spanish lace,
and smiled like the sun as it fell from her face.
I would wait 'till the mountains all sank to the seas
and seven long years for answers like these.
(Repeat first 2 lines of chorus, then)
What have you lost sir, and what did you find?
I found me my true love, who I left behind.
Page 199
SONG
In Praise of Good Friends
By: Vashti of the Flaming Tresses
Tune: Karelia's Song.
Oh, the sweet Adelicia (fair Heraldic lady)
Is enamoured quite seemly with her swashbuckling lord.
For her Robin is handsome, and deemed quite a poet,
And he'll slay you with either his wit or his sword.
Now, the lady is clever and she works for her kingdom
As the Principal Herald in the Land of the Star.
And she rules o'er her office with grace, and good humour,
And her laugh will enchant you though you travel far.
He's a fool and a herald, a Don and a poet:
She's the bright star that shines to inspire his songs.
And they'll marshall your tourney, then dance the Lilt lightly,
Then keep you up talking from midnight 'til dawn.
And they've founded El Humido Y Tragadante
(A troupe to perform Comedia dell'Arte)
And it's steamy and baudy, and Very Authentic
So the Steppesletter won't let us print the best parts!
Here's to good Baron Robin and his Adelicia!
May their star keep on rising, may they be of good cheer!
For laughter and learning, and great inspiration,
I shall find none better than the Steppes' newest Peers!
(Naturally, Robin and Adelicia are no longer "the Steppes
newsest peers". Some time after this was written,
they were invested as Baron & Baroness of the Steppes,
from which they have now stepped down. Some of Robin's
poetry can be found in this book.)
Page 200
SONG
The Ballade of the Iron Rose
By: Lord Cadfan ap Morgan Godrudd
Written for the second coronation of Rowan.
The English have their roses, red and white,
The Royal House of France its fleur-de-lis;
The edelweiss is Switzerland's delight,
And thistle crowns the Scotsman's heraldry.
But what might Ansteorra's blossoms be?
What is the pride of this our Kingdom's bower?
Look to the throne! The answer's there to see:
The Iron Rose is Ansteorra's flower.
You'll find no bloom as lasting or as bright
Within a garden wall's captivity;
This Rose despises cloisters--as is right,
For Queenly beauty must be brave and free!
And this Queen's beauty works such alchemy
As puts to shame the greatest wizards power!
Aye, all who look upon her must agree;
The Iron Rose is Ansteorra's flower.
Yet should impious hands e'er try to blight
This Rose of ours, her thorns will claim a fee
Of blood from them, for she knows how to fight
With no mean skill, nor little bravery!
Stern and unyielding in the fray is she,
Unwavering as any castle-tower,
The war-cry rises, as the foemen flee:
"The Iron Rose is Ansteorra's flower!"
ENVOI:
Rowan, Queen and Warrior! To Thee
We pledge our hearts and voices at this hour.
And this to all the Knowne Worlde now say we:
The Iron Rose is Ansteorra's flower!
Note: The ballade, a form of court-poetry distinct from the
popular ballad, originated in northern France in the
13th-14th century. It was used extensively by Francois
Villion, Froissart, and Eustache Deschampes, and later by
the English well into the time of Eliabeth.
Page 201
SONG
Shire Dedication Song
By: Morgaine
Here's to the Bridge which brings together
Baron and Baron, foe and friend
And for the love that's now begining
Never may our friendship end
So raise the glasses; drink my friends
Never may our friendship end.
Music and mirth and song of gladness
Dalliance, courtesy, love and light
Drink do we have to drive off sadness
Candles we have to drive off night
So raise the glasses; drink my friends
Never may our friendship end.
So come now my friends, love one another
Join the glad, uplifting song
If we have naught else, we have each other
And, oh, for how long, my dears, how long?
So raise the glasses; drink my friends
Never may the friendship end.
Page 202
SONG
Maids, When You're Young, Never Wed an Old Man
An old man came courting me,
Hey ding, doo-rum down.
An old man came courting me,
Hey doo-rum down. ( This line often done as "Me being young" )
An old man came courting me,
Fain he would marry me
Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.
CHORUS
For they've got no falloorum, falliddle, falloorum
They've got no falloorum, falliddle all day.
They've got no falloorum,
They've lost their ding doo-rum
So, maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.
Now, when we went to church,
Hey ding, doo-rum down.
Now, when we went to church,
Hey doo-rum down.
When we went to church,
He left me in the lurch
Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.
CHORUS
Now, when we went to bed,
Hey ding, doo-rum down.
Now, when we went to bed,
Hey doo-rum down.
Now, when we went to bed,
He neither done nor said
Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.
CHORUS
Now, when we went to sleep,
Hey ding, doo-rum down.
Now, when we went to sleep,
Hey doo-rum down.
Now, when we went to sleep,
Out of bed I did creep
Into the arms of a jolly young man.
FINAL CHORUS
And I found his falloorum, falliddle, falloorum,
I found his falloorum, falliddle all day.
I found his falloorum, he got my ding doo-rum
So, maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.
Page 203
POEM
Vertebrae
By Robley Wilson, Jr.
This is not an ideal SCA poem, but it has been
one of my favorites for years. - Stephen
Here I lie
in bed with you with a bad
back, pain and desire
driving me mad.
Surely,
were I to move
as passion bids
I might curse love.
Yet I dare not turn
darkness solemn
by seeming to favor
my spinal column.
It were better
to sleep alone
than admit to lacking
backbone.
Then shall I
certify my trust
in the therapy
of lust?
Now I consult
my slipped disc.
We accept
the risk.
Page 204
SONG
Sir Rubin and Lady Rachael
By: Moria Maureen
A two person man/woman song.
Good Sir Rubin, I've been thinking
What a nice thing it would be
If the ladies were permitted
In the lists to fight with thee.
Lady Rachael, I've been thinking
What a sad thing it would be
If the ladies were permitted
In the lists to fight with me.
Good Sir Rubin, I've been thinking
It would be such fun to win
I would swing my mighty broadsword
You would take it on the chin.
Lady Rachael, I've been thinking
It would be no fun to win
I would swing my mighty broadsword
YOU would take it on the chin.
Good Sir Rubin, I've been thinking
If you are afraid of me
I will go and slay the Dragon
But I won't come back to thee.
Lady Rachael, I've been thinking
Since I'm not afraid of thee
Let us go and slay the Dragon
And tonight I'll bide with thee.
Page 205
SONG
The Water is Wide
Olde English Folke Song (I am not sure of the source.)
The water is wide, I cannot get over
And neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I
A ship there is and she sails the sea
She's loaded deep as deep can be
But not so deep as the love I'm in
And I know now I sink or swim
I leaned my back up against some young oak
Thinking he was a trusty tree
But first he bended and then he broke
And thus did my false love to me.
I put my hand into some soft bush
Thinking the sweetest flower to find
I pricked my finger to the bone
And left the sweetest flower alone
Oh, love is handsome and love is fine
Gay as a jewel when first it is new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like summer dew
The water is wide, I cannot get over
And neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that will carry two
And both shall row, my love and I
Page 206
SONG
The Welsh Border
Tune: The Ash Grove
(C) Heather Rose Jones
Published by Firebird Arts and Music in An Tir
If ever you wander out by the Welsh border
Come stop by and see me and all of my kin.
I'm Morgan ap Daffyd ap Gwion ap Hywell
ap Ifor ap Madoc ap Courtey ap Quinn.
We'll feast you on mutton and harp for your pleasure
And give you a place to sleep out of the cold.
...Or maybe we'll meet you out on the dark roadway
And rob you of horses and weapons and gold.
My neighbor from England had come across raiding;
Slain six of my kinsmen, and burned down my hall.
It cannot be borne, this offense and injustice,
I've only slain four of his, last I recall.
I'll call on my neighbors, Llewellyn and Owen,
We'll cut him down as for the border he rides....
But yesterday Owen stole three of my cattle;
And first I'll retake them and two more besides.
We need a strong prince to direct our resistance;
Heroic, impartial; of noble degree.
My brother's wife's fourth cousin's foster son, Gryffydd
Is best for the job as I'm sure you'll agree.
What matters that Reece is the old prince's nephew?
He's exiled to Ireland, and will not return....
I know this, for every time boats he is building
I send my spies money, to see that they burn!
Last evening my brother and I were at war over
Two feet of land on the boundry we share.
But early this morning, I hear he's been .... Murdered.
I'll not rest until I avenge him, I swear!
Yes, we are just plain folks, who mind our own business;
Honest, and loyal and full of good cheer....
So if you should wander out by the Welsh border
Come stop by and see all the friendly folk here!
Page 207
SONG
Dane-Geld
By: Rudyard Kipling
It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nation.
To call upon a neighbor and say,
We invaded you last night, we are quite prepared to fight,
Unless you pay us cash to go away.
And that is called asking for Dane-geld,
And the people who ask it explain
That you've only to pay them the Dane-geld
And then you'll be rid of the Dane!
It is always a temptation to a rich and lazy nation
To puff and look important and to say
"Though we know we should defeat you,
we have not the time to meet you.
We will therefore pay you cash to go away."
And that is called paying the Dane-geld,
But we've proved it again and again.
That once you have paid him the Dane-geld,
You never get rid of the Dane.
It is wrong to put temptation in the path of any nation,
For fear they should succomb and go astray.
So when you are requested to pay up or be molested,
You will find it better policy to say:
We never pay any one Dane-geld,
No matter how trifling the cost,
For the end of that game is oppression and shame,
And the nation that plays it is lost!
Page 208
POEM
One Night at Defender
By: Someone who was there.
Well, shall I blame the moonlight then,
or shall I blame the wine?
I'll just tell you how it happened
on that evening out of time.
My friend and I were strolling
through a street fair- oh, so gay.
The full moon on that autumn night
lit the scene as it were day.
We saw the nobles drinking,
as the bards passed in review.
The folk were all delighted
at the poems and songs made new.
Two ladies near the flame were we,
for the night was drawing chill.
If it hadn't been for what came next,
why, we might be there still.
For then this one lord caught our eye,
clad all in white and black;
It seemed of all the menfolk there
this one alone did a lady lack.
Swift then we laid our basic plan-
for what we thought his due.
Two ladies need not stoop to force
when they can pleasure use.
Now men, I think all ladies know;
slaves to their senses are,
and if you tempt them subtly,
your way they will not bar.
Now she approached his left hand side,
As I took on the right.
We turned him round and laid him down
Before he could put up a fight.
The full moon in that evening sky
smiled on its twin below,
as she and I fine oil did spread
where e'er our hands would roam.
At first we moved most cautiously;
So's not to fright our prey.
We worked our wiles upon his feet,
then northward we did stray. (continued)
One Night at Defender Page 209
(continued) POEM
We took great care his pains to soothe,
and muscled knots to ease -
Ranged up and down the lengths we found
that he might rest at peace.
My friend heard her lord calling then,
she could not linger there.
She wished us well, as she went out-
We told her to take care.
So, then were we two all alone,
Was I trapped in my own snare?
It's hard to play these games of love
when your back-up isn't there.
And then did his hands start to roam
where e'er they might have chose.
Yet this scene had but one small change;
for I had kept my clothes.
I laid me down by his left side,
He cast o'er us his cloak;
then he taught me the kinds of things
which best are not bespoke.
Yes, kisses soft and whispers sweet
and secrets we did share.
Which I don't think you need to know
'cause none of you were there.
The hour did at last grow late;
our vigor all had strayed.
I bid good-night and left him there
asleep where we had played.
Now, parents and you good folk all
you need not feel betrayed;
I left his bed the maid I came-
But now I wish I'd stayed.
Page 210
SONG
The Knight and the Unicorn
There was a knight, a lusty knight, a randy knight was he
He had eleven mistresses and bastards thirty-three.
He indulged in every excess, yes, and each licentious whim
So you should have seen his jaw drop when a unicorn chose him!
Please go away, my gold-maned friend, begone I do declare!
My reputation will be shot with all the maidens fair.
I fear you've got the wrong, Oh, my friend with coat so fine
I haven't been a virgin since I reached the age of nine!
I've led a very lusty life - Falls, Winters, Springs, and Summers.
I have no peers with pole weapons, yes, I'll take on all comers.
So go away fair unicorn, if not I'll be grief-stricken,
The rampant cock upon my shield will turn into a chicken!
The ladies all reject me, thinking I'm so much bravado.
There must be twenty knights around with chastity their motto,
So go away fair unicorn, yes. Please leave me alone.
The ladies will not lay with me with you for chaperone!
Please go away, fair unicorn, begone and do not tarry.
You'll find the kind of man you seek up in the monastery.
On second thought, they're not the type that's celibately sleeping,
Instead of Mass and priestly vows, it's mistresses they're keeping.
The unicorn said not a word, but with a soft tap-tap,
She coiled her hooves around his feet- Put her head upon his lap,
The knight looked in her deep brown eyes and asked "Why me? Why you?"
The unicorn demurely said, "My lord, I'm horny, too!"
There was a knight, a lusty knight, a randy knight was he
He took to wife a unicorn, and they're both quite happy!
Page 211
POEM
To a Scholar From His Young Wife
(A Sonnet in Couplets)
By: Vashti of the Flaming Tresses
I suddenly awake and yawn and rise,
Wrap a fur around me, blink my eyes.
I interrupt your thoughts and face your ire,
"The night is late my love, won't you retire?
I know that my young bones must need more rest
While you stay late - this for you is best.
I dream warm abed, you dream warm by hearth
And ponder weighty matters of heaven and earth
And read and think, but then my dreamings done.
I reach out for your love - and wake alone!
If you crave warmth dear, then I am warm.
Hotter than fire, yet do less harm.
Come away my love, and leave thy fire
You still will burn, but 'twill be from desire."
Page 212
POEM
An Apology in Sonnet Form
By: Vashti of the Flaming Tresses
Feb. 25 1988
Forgive me that this missive comes so late -
At least a month or two, I must confess.
I meant to write! - It always seems my fate
To hurry through this world with little rest.
It sometimes seems there is scant time to spend
In quiet things, good talk, or even sleep,
Or correspondence with my dearest friends.
"Too much to do", I sigh, and up I leap
To work and fence, rehearse new scenes and pack;
A doublet must be stiched; a poem learned;
Then journey to the compass points and back;
And then a scroll to pen; my upkeep earn!
And yet to all the Chaos, there is Reason.
And Quiet Times will follow in their Season.
Page 213
POEM
A Summer Sonnet
By: Alair of the Bloody Fountain
The summer is no testing time for lovers.
All life springs forth to meet the longer day,
And waits until the winter's breath discovers
Which will remain, and which will pass away.
So love is grown too easily, it seems,
When Nature doth display her sweetest flowerr --
Watered in idle thoughts, rooted in dreams,
And often the amusement of an hour.
But dwell not on this blossom's dying sorrow
The instant that it's petals meet the air.
Who knows? It may be in bloom tommorrow!
Today we only see that it is fair.
Come, summer lady, Love is in it's season.
It may prove constant -- if you give it reason.
Page 214
POEM
A Maiden's Prayer on Occasion of Early Snowfall
By: Master Jacques Dirlonde of Outremer
It snowed on Sunday - Dear God praise to thee!
A knight I know had girded him for quest
To lands that lie far from me to the west.
But now the snow lies deep clear to the sea.
And mountain trails - O dear God, praise to thee! -
Cannot be passed. His squire, I am told, did test
The pass, came back, informed my noble guest -
My knight! - that prisoner here he must needs be.
My prisoner! Now he's in my castle bound for weeks!
Nay, months! Perhaps until spring!
And long ere then his thoughts must turn towards Love.
And then (praise God!) what winter nights might bring!
In poems, such idleness oft leads, I've found,
To weddings surely blessed by Heaven above.
Page 215
POEM
Song of an Old Viking, Home From the Sea
By: Master Jacques Dirlonde of Outremer
If I could speak, it would not matter much
The tales that I could tell - and that I may.
In hours to come. Could talk from now 'til break of day
Of days there were when we had lost all touch
Of land. At first, it did not seem like much
That morning when we set out from the quay.
Kept land in sight off larboard that first day
And night - and lost it! Dawn came, and with it such
A waste - a desolation - Storm-tossed caps
That broke and rose again against our stem
And nearly broke us as we thundered on
To West. To West! The west that seemed so dim
Those days! Since then we've added to our maps
A land - Vinlandia - looked back toward the dawn.
Page 216
SONG
A Lover's Lament for Laurence
By: Vashti of the Flaming Tresses
Spring 1989, AS XXIII
Tune: Can Shee Excuse My Wrongs
By: John Dowland, published 1597
My love he is of sly Reynard's kin
With his Fox's eyes and his pointed chin.
With wit and grace and his long red-brown hair
There's no dancer who can with him compare.
My love he is of sly Reynard's kin
With his Fox's eyes and his pointed chin.
Weep now and join in my sad lament
For that my love was from me most cruelly rent.
Herald, you bring such sad news on this day -
"Lord Laurence died upon the King's Highway."
Weep now and join in my sad lament
For that my love was from me most cruelly rent.
(faster tempo)
No, no, no, no - this I cannot believe -
Surely they are wrong, and I need not grieve!
True love was never meant to feel such pain -
How can he be gone, and yet I remain?
(slow tempo again)
Ah, Love, could you not wait to rest,
And sleep gently here, upon my breast?
I would have kept you safe and warm,
Cloistered closely here against every harm.
Ah, Love, could you not wait to rest,
And sleep gently here, upon my breast?
Ah, Love, please say that it's all lies,
And I'll look again in your Fox's eyes!
I burn now not for heavenly bliss,
But for your sweet smile and your loving kiss.
Ah, Love, please say that it's all lies,
And I'll look again in your Fox's eyes.
Written in memory of Lord Laurence D'Avranches, who died
Dec. 4 1988 on his way home from an event.
Page 217
SONG
The Laurel Song
This song was written and performed at the Illiton
Crown Tourney. It's a song, not about members of the
Order of the Laurel, but rather it is about the
Laurel Realm, the entire Society.
The holly and ivy are jolly and lively
The oak, ash, and thorn are all steadfast and true;
The willow weeps sweetly,
The poplar stands proudly,
But Laurel, green Laurel, none fairer than you!
The Dragon and Tyger, the Redwood and Crescent,
The Lone Star and Bright Sun and Beacon aflame -
From Duke and high noble to lowliest peasant,
Laurel, green Laurel, all honor thy name.
From Region Trimaris to Lyonsgate Harbour,
From Land of the Angels to Vinland's far shores,
In peace-time, in war-time, in fight, feast, or famine -
Laurel, green Laurel, the glory is yours!
It's Laurel, green Laurel, in revel or battle -
All are one when your gold banner's unfurled,
In peace-time, in war-time, it's my sign and your sign -
A wreath of your leaves stands for all the Known World.
Page 218
SONG
Drink to the Sword
Written by: Ragnar
( Usually done as a two person piece. )
"What shall we do when tomorrow comes early
And what shall we do when tomorrow comes nigh?"
"We'll take to the longships and set the sail smartly
We'll take to the longships and set the sail high."
CHORUS - after every verse.
And drink to the sword that sings merry in battle,
And drink to our foemen who gallantly die.
Let's lift up our horns and drink deep 'till tomorrow.
Let's drink deep the mead 'till the barrel runs dry.
"What shall we do if the north wind is blowing
And what shall we do if the north wind is tame?"
"By sail or by oar we will hasten to England
To pillage and plunder for fortune and fame."
"But what shall we do if a storm comes a-squalling
With thunder and lightning and rain on the sea?"
"We'll bail out the water and lift up our voices
And sign with the hammer so Odin will see."
"And what shall we do when we land there in England
Beside a tall fortress so strong and so bold?"
"We'll pound on our shields 'till the walls are a-crumbling
Then cut down the soldiers and take all the gold."
"But what shall we do if the soldiers are many
A thousand or more who will stand unafraid?"
"Then... (pause) ... We'll sing them a song with
great smiles on our faces,
For we are but merchants who've come here to trade!"
Page 219
SONG
Lord of the Dance
When she danced on the water and the wind was her horn,
The Lady laughed and everything was born.
And when she lit the sun and the light gave him birth
The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the earth.
CHORUS - after every verse
Dance, dance, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he
I live in you, if you live in me,
And I lead you all in the dance, said he.
I dance in the circle when the flames leap up high;
I dance in the fire and I never, ever die.
I dance in the waves of the bright summer sea,
For I am the Lord of the waves' mystery.
I sleep in the kernel and I dance in the rain.
I dance in the wind and through the waving grain,
And when you cut me down I care nothing for the pain,
In the Spring I'm the Lord of the Dance once again.
I dance at the Sabbat when you dance out the spell,
I dance and sing that everyone be well,
And when the dancing's over do not think that I am gone
To live is to dance, so I dance on and on.
The horn of the Lady cast it's sound cross the plain
The birds took the notes and gave them back again
'Till the sound of her music was a song in the sky,
And to that song there is one reply.
The moon in her phases and the tides of the sea
The movement of the earth and the seasons that will be
Are the rhythm for the dancing and a promise through the years
That the Dance goes on through our joy and tears.
They danced in the darkness and they danced in the night,
They danced on the earth and everything was light.
They danced out the darkness and they danced in the dawn
And the day of their dancing still goes on and on.
I gaze on the heavens and I gaze on the earth,
And I feel the pain of dying and rebirth,
And I lift my head in gladness and in praise for the day
Of the Dance of the Lord and the Lady gay.
Page 220
POEM
King's Champion
By: Valeria Richila Navarro
A ballade written for Mahadi on the way back
to Ansteorra from London, one week after King's
Champion.
Once in the night a voice did sing
In a tenor steady and true
Over the campsites did it ring
Drawing to him the praises due.
Closer then to the fire I drew
Slowly to the light did advance
For this was a man that I'd pursue
To win with a song, a fight, or a dance.
When next our paths did together bring
He danced with grace into my view
Spinning a maid in highland fling
Whose place I wished for the dance I knew.
Then the dance changed as if by cue
He took my hand to step and prance
Tho' oft we danced it was too few
To win with a song, a fight, or a dance.
That morning bright the lark took wing
The fields all sparkled with early dew
He vowed that noon to protect the king
As king's champion's are wont to do
His prowess that morn did the knights rue
For against him they stood no chance
So they fought and wished they could too
Win with a song, a fight or a dance.
When he did take time to woo
And gave a thought to sweet romance
Why then my heart became his too
Won with a song, a fight and a dance.
Page 221
SONG
The Hidden Tears
By: Gwendolyn
The look of war is again in his eyes,
Though he told me no, I know it is so.
The keep is full of men and supplies.
The meetings he has late at night,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
The training goes on by firelight.
By day we work, laugh, and sing,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
By night I hear the swords ring.
The fields are now plowed and planting will soon start,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
I feel the beating of a new small heart.
The crops of the field grow quite steady,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
I fear the troops grow too ready.
As the time of harvest now grows near,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
The child grows too great to hide, I fear.
The wagons, at night, they are loading,
Though he tells me no, I know it is so.
I feel such loss and a sense of forboding.
As he leaves, he asks, "My Love, are you with child?"
Though I tell him no, he knows it is so.
Page 222
POEM
Robin of Gilwell
By: Stephen of the Grove
Robin of Gilwell is his name,
He's known both near and far,
And he's welcome wherever he may go
In the land of the Sable Star.
He's a herald, a Don and a Poet.
He wears his pelican with pride.
And he rules the Barony of Steppes
With Adelicia at his side.
Robin earned his Lion well,
The kingdom all agrees,
And twice he's pie-faced barons
to the delight of their baronies.
He's been honored with star of merit,
And sable falcon, too.
So let's lift our cups to Robin,
He helps our dream come true.
Page 223
SONG
Queen of My Heart
By: Alton Aeldredwood
Oh, My love is a fair, fair maiden.
Oh, My love is an argent gleam.
Oh, My love is a pearl from the briny deep.
Oh, My love she is Queen.
Of my heart she is Queen.
See her dancing the muse of the fair folk.
Hear her laughing, joyful and free.
See her smiling, the love streaming from her face,
Hear her tell me, "I Love Thee."
For my love, I will pay any bride price,
And my love, she will wear my ring.
And, my love, she will live where e'er I live,
For she has made me her King.
Yes, of her heart, I am King.
Page 224
The Servant Girl's Holiday POEM
From "Medieval English Verse"
I've waited longing for today:
Spindle, bobbin, and spool, away!
In joy and bliss I'm off to play
Upon this high holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, and spool, away,
For joy that it's a holiday!
The dirt upon the floor's unswept,
The fireplace isn't cleaned and kept,
I haven't cut the rushes yet
Upon this high holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
The cooking herbs I must fetch in,
And fix my kerchief under my chin.
Darling Jack, lend me a pin
To fix me well this holiday!
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
Now midday has almost come,
And all my chores are still not done
I'll clean my shoes till they become
Bright for a high holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
In pails the milk has got to go;
I ought to spread this bowl of dough -
It clogs my nails and fingers so
As I knead this holiday!
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
Jack will take me on my way,
And with me he will want to play:
I needn't fear my lady's nay
On such a high holiday!
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
And when we stop beside the track
At the inn this Sunday, Jack
Will wet my whistle and pay my whack
As on every holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
(continued, next page)
The Servant Girl's Holiday Page 225
(continued) POEM
Then he'll take me by the hand
And lay me down upon the land
And make my buttocks feel like sand
Upon this high holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
In he'll push and out he'll go,
With me beneath him lying low:
'By God's death, you do me woe
Upon this high holiday.'
Spindle, bobbin, etc.
Soon my belly began to swell
As round and great as any bell;
And to my dame I dared not tell
What happened to me that holiday.
Spindle, bobbin, and spool, away,
For joy that it's a holiday!
Page 226
SONG
Sutan's Song
By: Stephen of the Grove
Tune: The Mongol Birthday Song (or The Birthday Dirge.)
which, in turn, is to the tune of Volga Boatmen.
The weather's bad, your horse goes lame.
Remember Sutan gets the blame.
CHORUS - after every verse
Sutan Bloodaxe.
Sutan Bloodaxe.
Sutan's house is called Longtooth.
They're loud and tough and not quite couth.
Every Rhino-Hider knows,
When Sutan swings, you call his blows.
Outside Sutan looks quite rough.
Inside he's a powderpuff.
Here's what Sutan likes to eat.
Meat and Meat and Meat and Meat.
Your tent falls down, Your soup needs salt.
Your sword has rust. It's Sutan's fault.
Many fight him, many die.
I don't know why they even try.
Sutan never ever sins
But boy does Sutan's evil twin.
Someday he may be our king.
Isn't that a scary thing.
E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank