Samira Vale

Pale they were, the wounded knights, who bore the Cynaguan shield
Loud and clear were the raven's cries as he feasted on the field
Saying, "Golden Rivers wide and deep, will never clean you wounds.
"There are none but the maids of the east mere lands,
can make you hale and sound."

"So course well thy brindled steeds and fetch thee the mountain hare
Who's coat is a brown as the west water or white as the mountain air"
Who said, "Green moss and heather bands, will never stanch the flood
There are none but the maids of Samira Vale,
can save thy dear life's blood."

F Bb F Bb
"So turn turn your stallion's head till their long manes fly in the wind

F Bb DM
And course your way as the lowlands pass and the west sun falls behind."

F Bb F Bb
They faced their mounts unto the clouds and eastward they did climb

F DM
They wound their course toward the lands,

Bb C
Where the oaks would turn to pine.

F Bb F Bb
It was weary in those dead brown hills and little they could say

F DM Bb
Till they found the cliffs of the Mountain's Gate where the ancient

C
cedars sway

F Bb F Bb
Who spoke, "Why do you come this way and where for came your here?"

F DM
"We seek the maids of the east-mere land,
Bb C
That dwell by the winding mere."
F Bb F Bb
"Then fly free your good war steeds and if they show no fear

F DM Bb C
You must climb to the highest peaks where the air is thin and dear

F Bb F
But beware the pass where the echoes call, for the cliffs are steep and

Bb
shear

F DM
And many a knight has lost his life,

Bb C
When the first snow falls appear."

F Bb F Bb
There through Darlin's Wood do ford where the icy currents sweep

F DM Bb C
To the North if you go too far, Silver Desert will be you keep

F Bb F Bb
Stay your course to the Southern rim even though the path seems gray

F DM
There behold the East most pass

Bb C
Where the dead kings of old do lay

F Bb F Bb
When you've crested the day's lofty peak in the evening moon's first ray

F DM Bb C
You may glimpse an emerald vale, before the high desert gives away

F Bb F Bb
And there in the mist of a meadow lost by the light of the crescent moon

F DM
Dance the Maids, veiled in silk

Bb C
Who owe no man a boon

F Bb F Bb
The men cried "Course well my fearless steeds, go fast as a mountain hare

F DM Bb C
Guide me down the granite cliffs and catch me the maidens fair"
F Bb F Bb
They said, "Pray sheath thy rattan swords, lay down thy duct-tape spear

F DM
For we see by the briny blood that flows

Bb C
You've been wounded in the rear"

sing ahh from now on (?)
 

F Bb F
There they stood in the silks of a rainbow hue, twined round like a

Bb
golden chain

F DM Bb
They have kissed their pale lips once and twice and three times 'round

C
again

F Bb F
And they bathed their wounds from the mountain springs, full fast in

Bb
their arms they lay

F DM
The men have risen hale and sound

Bb C
With the sun high in the day

F Bb
The maids said, "Pray, stay with your duct-taped spears

F Bb
And your rattan swords in hand

F DM
There are none that can harm a knight who's lain

Bb C
With the maids of Samira land"
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SCA Girl
(To the tune of Eurotrash Girl by Cracker)
Filked by Edmound Bernhard

Well I went down to Citadel
And I slept in a park
Went on up to Caer Mithen
For a tourney in the dark

And I'll search the world over
For my Lady in Garb
Yeah, I'll search the world over
For an SCA Girl

Cruised on out to Outlandish
Nearly blew me away
Yeah, the wind there was awful
But I stayed anyway

And I'll search the world over
For my Lady in Garb
Yeah, I'll search the world over
For an SCA Girl

Got drunk at St. Golias
They put me up for the night
Now I always have liked them
The way they drink, and they fight

And I'll search the world over
For my Angel in Garb
Yeah, I'll search the world over
For an SCA girl

SCA Girl, SCA Girl
SCA Girl, SCA Girl

Called my Knight from a pay phone
Said I'm down to my last
He said "I gave you your armor
Now go call your dad"

And the Duchess that he married
Well she hung up the phone
No she never did like me
But I can stand on my own

Sold my armor at Pennsic
Spent it all in one night
Buyin' drinks in a tavern
For a guy who don't fight

And I'll search the world over
For my Lady in Garb
Yeah I'll search the world over
For an SCA Girl

SCA Girl, SCA Girl
SCA Girl, SCA Girl

Yeah I'll Search the world over
For My Angel in Garb
I'll search the world over
For an SCA Girl

Cruised on out to Estrella
Atens Piped on the field
Yeah they still lost the war though
Never had time to yield

And I'll search the world over
For my Lady in Garb
I'll Search the world over
For an SCA Girl
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THE SCA Happy Birthday Song
tune: "Volga Boatmen"

Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)
Death and gloom and black despair
People dying everywhere
Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)

Now you are the age you are Fear and gloom and darkness but
Your demise cannot be far no one found out YOU KNOW WHAT

May the candles on your cake You're a period cook, its true
burn like cities in your wake ask the beetles in the stew

Burn the Castle and storm the keep Now your jail-bait days are done
Kill the Women but SAVE THE SHEEP! let's go out and have some fun!

May your deeds with sheep and yaks You must marry very soon
equal those with sword and axe baby's due the next full moon

Your servants steal, your wife's untrue Were I sitting in your shoes
Your children plot to murder you I'd go out and sing the blues

They stole your gold, your sword, your house Tho you're turning 29
They stole your sheep, but not your spouse age to you is like fine wine

so you're 29 again Now you've lived another year
don't tell lies to your good friend age to you is like stale beer

So another year has passed Long ago your hair turned grey
don't look now they're gaining fast! now it's falling out, they say

Black Death has just struck your town It's your birthday never fear
you yourself feel quite run-down You'll be dead this time next year

We brought linen, white as cloud See the wrinkles on your face
Now we'll sit and sew your shroud! Like the pattern of fine lace

So far death you have bypassed Indigestion's what you get
Don't look back it's gaining fast From the enemies you 'et
 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
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Scotland the Brave
from the singing of Tom and Marie Teven
midi and sheet http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SCOTBRV2&tt=SCOTBRAV

Hark when the night is fallin', hear, hear the pipes a-callin'
Loudly and proudly callin' down thru the glen
There where the hills are sleepin', now feel the blood a-leapin'
High as the spirits of the old highland men!

Bridge:
Towering in gallant fame, Scotland the mountain hame!
High may your proud standards gloriously wave!
Land of the high endeavour, land of the shining river,
Land of my heart, forever, Scotland the brave!

High in the misty highlands, out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies!
Wild are the winds to meet you, staunch are the friends that greet you
Kind as the light that shines from fair maiden's eyes!

Far-off in sunlit places, sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearnin' t'feel the kiss of sweet Scottish rain!
Where tropic skies are beamin', love sets the heart a-dreamin',
Longin' and dreamin' for the homeland again!

Hot as a burning ember, flaming in bleak December
Burning within the hearts of clansmen afar!
Calling to home and fire, calling the sweet desire,
Shining a light that beckons from every star!
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Scotlands Depraved
-by miscellaneous and anonymous Scots of many nationalities

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the sheep
I'm so lonely tonight
Bring out the sheets of rubber
Bring out the peanut butter
England's forever, but Scotland's Depraved

Bring out the whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the condoms
I'm so restless tonight
Bring out my little brother
I'll have no other lover
England's forever, but Scotland's Depraved

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the grease
I'm feelin' frisky tonight
Bring out my little sister
Lord knows I've really missed her
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the prize ram
I'm so horny tonight
When I'm a done with humpin'
We'll all feast on mutton
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Out in the fields of heather
Bring out the whips of leather
Whip me so soundly lassie
And hear me rave
Down where the streams' a' windin'
Being out the ropes for bindin'
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so frisky mother
Bring out the sheep
I'm so lonely tonight
Lord Knows I really wanna'
Bring out the greased Iguana
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the sheep
I'm so lonely tonight
Bring out the Chimpanzees
We'll give them our diseases
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Bring out the Whiskey mother
I'm so thirsty mother
Bring out the sheep
I'm so lonely tonight
Bring out the can o' Cheez-Wiz
Bring out the plastic Jesus
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved

Baa baa baa baa baa baa baa
Baa baa baa baa baa baa baa
Baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa
Baa baa baa baa baa baa baa
Baa baa baa baa baa baa baa
England's forever, but Scottland's Depraved
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The Scottish Soldier
-Traditional

There was a Soldier, A Scottish Soldier
Who wandered far away, and soldiered far away
There was none bolder, with good broad shoulder
He'd fought in muny a fray, and fought and won

He'd seen the glory, he told the story,
Of battles glorious, and deeds victorious,
But he is sighing, his heart is crying,
To leave those green hills of Tyrol

Chorus:
Because those green hills are not Heilan' hills
Or the Island hills, they're not my lands hills
And fair as these green foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away, and soldiered far away
Sees leaves are falling, and Death is calling
And he will fade away, in this far land

He calls his Piper, his trusty Piper
And bade him song delay, a pilbrock sad to play
Upon a hillside, a Scottish Hillside
Not on those green hills of Tyrol

Chorus

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Will wander far no more, and soldier far no more
And on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
You'll see a Piper play his soldier home

He's seen the glory, he told the story
Of battles glorious, and deeds victorious
But he will cease now, he is at peace now
Not on those green hills of Tyrol

Chorus
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Scots, Wha Hae
Tune Hey Tuti Tatey
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SCOTWHAE&tt=SCOTWHAE;SCOTWHAE.2

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory.

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power,
Chains and slavery.

Wha would be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a Slave?
Let him turn and fly:

Wha for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa',
Let him follow me.

By Oppression's woes and pains!
By your Sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud Usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us Do - or Die!!!
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Searching for lambs
(5/4 meter)
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SRCHLAMB&tt=SRCHLAMB

As I went out one may morning,
One may morning betime,
I met a maid, from home had strayed,
Just as the sun did shine.

"What makes you rise so soon, my dear,
Your journey to pursue?
Your pretty little feet, they tread so neat.
Strike off the morning dew."

" I'm going to feed my father's flock,
His young and tender lambs,
That over hills and over dales
Lie waiting for their dams."

"Oh stay, oh stay, you handsome maid,
And rest a moment here,
For there is none but you alone
That I do love so dear."

" How gloriously the sun doth shine,
How pleasant 'tis the air.
I'd rather rest on a true love's breast
Than any other where."

"For I am thine and thou art mine.
No man shall uncomfort thee.
We'll join our hands in wedded bands
And a-married we will be."
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Seeds of Love
(flower represents the false lover)
recorded by Clancy Bros on Bold Fenian Men
Tune from Sharp, English Folk songs
Midi and sheet http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SEEDLOVE&tt=SEEDLOVE;SEEDLOVE.2

I sowed the seeds of love,
And I sowed them in the spring.
I gathered them up in the morning so soon,
While the small birds so sweetly sing.
While the small birds so sweetly sing.

My garden was planted well
With flowers ev'ry where,
But I had not the liberty to choose for my self
Of the flow'rs that I loved so dear,
Of the flow'rs that I loved so dear,

The gard'ner was standing by,
And I saked him to choose for me.
He chose for me the violet, the lily, and the pink,
But those I refused all three.
But those I refused all three.

The violet I did not like
Because it bloomed so soon.
The lily and the pink I really over think,
So I vowed I would wait `til June.
So I vowed I would wait `til June.

In June there was a red rose bud,
And that is the flow'r for me.
I often time have pluck'd that red rose bud
Till I gain'd the willow tree.
Till I gain'd the willow tree.

The willow tree will twist,
And the willow tree will twine.
I often time have wished I were in that young man's arms
That once had the heart of mine.
That once had the heart of mine.

Come all you false young men.
Do not leave me here to complain,
For the grass that has often time been trampled under foot,
Give it time. It will rise again.
Give it time. It will rise again.
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Seinn O Ho Ro Seinn (Sing, O ho ro, sing)
Origin: Folksongs and Folklore of South Uist by Margaret Fay Shaw

Fonn: Seinn, O ho ro seinn
Seinn, o ho ro leannain,
Seinn, o ho ro seinn!

1. Righ! Gur muladach tha mi, `S mi air `airigh chruidh bhainne.
2. `S gur muladach sgith mi, `S mi liom fhin an tir m'aineoil.
3. Cha b'ionann's mar bha me, Mun do dh'fh`ag mi Br`aigh Raineach;
4. Le m'phiuthair `s le m'bhr`athair, `S cead bhith m`anran ri m'leannan.
5. Ann am bothan an t-s`ugraidh, `Se bu d`unadh dha barrach
6. `Se bu leaba dhuinn luachair, `Se bu chluasag dhuinn canach. (Fonn: three times)
7. Seinn o ho ro, Ruairidh, Bidh daoin `uasl' air do bhainis.
8. Seinn o ho ro, Thormaid, Fhir nan gorm sh`uilean meallach.
9. L`amh a sti`uireadh I d`ireach, Ro' Chaol Ile `na deannaibh;
10. `S tu gun sti`uireadh I tioram, `S muir a'mire r'a crannaibh.
11. `S ged nach bi mi `ga innse, `S ann an Ile tha mo leannan.
12. `S ged nach bi mi `ga r`aitinn, Thug mi gr`adh dhut `s mi `m leanabh.

Translation
1. O king, I am sorrowful in the sheiling of milch cattle.
2. I am sorrowful and tired, alone in a strange land.
3. Not so was I before I left the brae of Rannoch,
4. With my sister and my brother, and with liberty to dally with my sweetheart.
5. In the bothy of merriment, which was closed by birch branches,
6. Our bed was the rushes, and our pillow was the bog cotton. (sing chorus 3 times)
7. Sing o ho ro, Rory, gentry will attend thy wedding.
8. Sing o ho ro, Norman, of beguiling eyes,
9. Your hand would steer the boat, while the sea raged around her oak planks.
10. You would steer her straight throught he Sound of Islay at full speed.
11. You would steer her dry while the sea was playing around her masts.
12. And although I shall not tell it, my sweetheart is in Islay,
13. And although I shall not say it, I fell in love with you as a child.
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Seven Nights Drunk
-Traditional

When I came home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be
So I called my wife, (audience shouts: HEY WIFE!)
And I said to her, would you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside my door, where my old horse should be?

Oh, you're drunk, you drunk, you silly old fool,
Can't you plainly see?
That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow I've never seen before!

When I came home on Tuesday night......etc.
Saw a coat behind the door......etc.
Who owns that coat.....
...that's a lovely blanket...
...But buttons on a blanket....etc.

When I came home on Wednesday night.....etc.
I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be...etc.
....Who owns that pipe.....
...That's a lovely tin-whistle that my mother sent to me!
...But tobacco in a tin-whistle I've never seen before!

When I came home on Thursday night......etc.
I saw two boots beneath the bed.......etc.
...Who owns those boots.......etc.
...They're two geranium-pots...etc.
...But laces in geranium-pots....etc.

When I came home on Friday night......etc... Saw a head upon the bed......etc.
....Who owns that head.........etc.
...That's a baby boy...etc.
...but whiskers on a baby boy...etc.

When I came home on Saturday night....etc.
Saw a rise beneath the sheets.....etc.
....Who owns that rise......
...It's nothing but a shillelagh...etc.
...But knackers on a shillelagh....etc.

(Alternate lyric: "Hammer" "A hammer with a head like that..")

When I came home on Sunday night...etc.
I saw a man walk out the door, a little after three! (shout: A.M.!)
....Who was that man......after three (shout: A.M.!)
...That's an English tax-man....etc.
...But an Englishman that could last till three....etc.
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The Sexual Life of the Camel, or My God How the Money Rolls In!
-Anonymous

The sexual life of the Camel My cousin sells shields to the Tuchux
Is stranger than anyone thinks The plywood they're made of is thin;
One night in a moment of passion I'm a doggone good Chiurgeon
He tried to deflower the Sphinx! My God, how the money rolls in!

Now, the Sphinx's posterior anatomy My brother is a mercenary
Is covered with sand from the Nile. Hiring out to help you win
That accounts for the hump in the Camel, Since both Kingdoms pay for his wages
And the Sphinx's inscrutable smile! My God, how the money rolls in!

The One skin lies over the Two skin The East and the Middle are fighting
The Two skin lies over the Three Trimaris and others join in
The Three skin lies over the Foreskin The Dark Horde makes book on the winner
Please roll back my Foreskin for me My God, how the money rolls in!

The Baron, he rides on a warhorse, Smilin' Ali is looking for people
With a fancy great helluva rig, To travel a long way with him
He doesn't get there any faster, To auctions in old Persian markets
But it makes the old bastard feel big! My God, how the money rolls in!

The King, he sleeps in a feather bed I'm just a poor mercenary
The Knights all sleep in their sacks; I don't care if we lose or we win
As a means of self-preservation, As long as you're still here on payday
The squires all sleep on their backs! My God, how the money rolls in!

And here's to the girls of St Golias Ioseph of Locksley is Celtic,
And here's to the alleys they roam, Ioseph of Locksley is thin,
And here's to their dirty-faced bastards, Ioseph writes satire to order,
God bless 'em, they may be your own! My God, how the money rolls in!
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Shan Van Vocht

"oh' the French are on the say,"
says the Shan Van Vocht,
"Oh' the French are on the say,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
"Oh! The French are in the bay
They'll be here at break of day,
and the orange will decay."
Says the Shan Van Vocht,
"And the orange will decay,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.

"And where will they have their camp?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"And where will they have their camp?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"On the Curragh of Kildare,
And the boys will all be there,
With their pikes in good repair,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"With their pikes in good repair,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;

"And what colour will be seen?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"And what colour will be seen?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
"What colour will should be seen
Where our fathers' homes have been
But our own immortal green,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
"But our own immortal green,"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.

"Will old Ireland then be free?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"Will old Ireland then be free?"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
"Old Ireland shall be free,
From the centre to the sea
Then hurrah for liberty!"
Says the Shan Van Vocht;
"Then hurrah for liberty!"
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
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She moved through the fair
(Traditional - http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/movedthrufair.html)

My young love said to me
"My mother won't mind
and my father won't slight you for your lack of kind,"
And she stepp'd away from me and this she did say,
"It will not be long love, till our wedding day."

She stepp'd away from me And went thro' the fair,
And fondly I watch'd her Move here and move there,
And then she went homeward with one star awake,
As the swan in the evening moving over the lake.

(The people were saying, no two e'er were wed
But one had a sorrow that never was said
And I smiled as she passed with her goods and her gear, From Cantaria not in our
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.) songbook.

Last night she came to me, she came softly in,
So softly she came that her feet make no din.
And she laid her hand on me and this she did say,
"It will not be long, love, till our wedding day."
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Simple Gifts
(Shaker hymn of the "Mother Ann's Work")
Recorded by Golden Ring
Midi and sheet http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SIMPLEGF&tt=LORDANCE

`Tis the gift to be simple, `tis the gift to be free,
`Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right
`Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we will not be ashamed.
To turn, to turn will be our delight,
And by turning, turning we come `round right.
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Sister's Lullaby

Hush and sleep ye,
Shush and keep ye,
Safe within the home's strong walls
Naught shall harm ye,
We shall charm ye,
With the songs the night bird call.
Sisters strong shall keep the cradle,
Sisters long shall watch the war
Sisters all shall guard and guide ye,
Till ye wake at break of dawn.

Hush and sleep ye,
Shush and keep ye,
Alta watches from above
We will praise ye,
We will raise ye,
Light and darkin Alta's love.
Sisters strong shall keep the cradle,
Sisters long shall watch the war
Sisters all shall guard and guide ye,
Till ye wake at break of dawn.
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The Sleeping Scotsman
-Traditional Anonymous

A Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked he'd drunk more than his share
He stumbled on until he could no longer keep his feet
Then staggered off into the grass to sleep, beside the street

CHORUS: A ring-di-diddle-e-di do, a-ring-di-diddle-i-day
He staggered off into the grass to sleep beside the street.

(following choruses as above, repeating last line of verse)

A pair of young and lovely girls just happened to come by
And one said to the other, with a twinkle in her eye:
"You see yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong and handsome built..
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?"

They crept upon the sleeping Scotsman, quiet as could be,
And lifted up his kilt above the waist, so they could see..
And there, behold, for them to view, beneath his Scottish skirt
'Twas nothing but what God has graced him with upon his birth!

They marveled for a moment, then one said: "We'd best be gone.
But let's leave a present for our friend before we move along!"
So as a gift, they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow,
Around the Bonnie Star the Scottish kilt did lift and show!

The Scotsman woke to Nature's Call, and stumbled towards a tree
Behind the bush, he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees!
Then, in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes:
"I ken na' whaur y'been, m'lad, but I see y'won First Prize!"
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The Soliloquy of King Henry V
By Master William Shakespeare
(From King Henry V: Act IV, Scene III)
 

Proclaim it Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put in his purse:
We would not die in that mans company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us,
This day call'd the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian':
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Saint Crispians day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages,
What feats he did that day; then shall our names,
Familliar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispian Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered:
We few we, happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother: be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And Gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhood's cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispians day.
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Snowy Breasted Pearl
From Soodlum's selection of Irish Ballads
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SNOWBRST&tt=SNOWBRST

There's a colleen fair as May,
For a year and for a day,
I have tried in ev'ry way her heart to gain.
There's a no trick of tongue or eye,
Fond youths with midens try,
But I've tried with ceaseless sigh and tried in vain
If to far off France or spain,
She crossed the raging main,
Her face to see again,
The seas I'd brave,
But if tis heav'ns decree,
That mine she may not be,
May the son o f mary, me in mercy save.

Oh, snowy milk white dove
To whom I've given my love,
Ah never thus reprove
My constancy.

There are maidens would be mine,
With wealth in land and kine,
If I would but incline
To turn from thee.

But a kiss with welcome bland and touch of thy fair hand,
Is all that I demand,
Did thy love burn.

But if not mine, dear girl,
Oh snowy breasted Pearl,
May I never from the fair
With life return.
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Society Nazis
DONN PADRAIG McMATHUIN et. al.
TO THE TUNE GREENSLEEVES
IS THIS A MIRROR.

ALAS OLD MAID YOU'RE FULL OF SPITE
TO TREAT A STRANGER CRUELY.
YOU'VE CRITISIZED, WITH RASPING TONGUE
AND COMMENTS ON CLOTHING, UNDUELY.

CHORUS

MEAN SPIRITED ARE YOU ALL
MEAN SPIRIT BEFORE A FALL
YOU LACK COMMON COURTESY
WHO FORGET WHAT WE ARE ABOUT.

DEVOID OF FUN, YOUR BLACK INTENT,
CAN KILL THE FUN ALL AROUND YOU.
YOUR DISMAL AIR DEPRESSES ME
GO WORK ON YOUR LAUREL ELSEWHERE!

YOUR MANNERS LEARNED FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE
TO INVITE A STRANGER TO FEAST WITH THEE.
THEN MAKE OF HER A SERVING GIRL
AND NOT HAVE THE MANNERS TO FEED HER.

MY LORD YOU'VE BEEN WITH US SO LONG
AND NOW YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING.
JUST WHO ARE YOU TO SET A TIME
FOR WHEN THEY'LL STOP CALLING ME "NEWBIE".

YOU PLOT AND SCHEME TO DO US WRONG.
YOU SET UP THE BLAMELESS TO DO YOUR DEEDS,
TO SING FOR US A LURID SONG,
AND STILL WE HAVE SEEN THROUGH YOUR TREACHERY.

AND SO YOU CAME INTO OUR CAMP
OUR ARMS EXTENDED MOST NEIGHBORLY
THEN YOU ENGAGE IN VERBAL ABUSE.
THY ACTIONS BELY YOUR NOBILITY.
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Song of the Shield-Wall
Words: Lady Malkin Grey
Music: Lady Peregrynne Windrider

Hasten, oh sea-steed, over the swan-road,
Foamy-necked ship oer the froth of the sea,
Hengest has called us from Gotland and Frisia
To Vortigern's country his army to be
We'll take our pay there in sweeter than silver-,
We'll take our plunder in richer than gold,
For Hengest has promised us land for the fighting
Land for the sons of the Saxons to hold!

Hasten, oh fyrdsmen, down to the river
The dragonships come on the in-flowing tide
The linden-wood shield and the old spear of ash-wood
Are needed again by the cold water-side
Draw up the shield-wall, oh shoulder companions
Later whenever our story is told
They'll say that we died guarding what we call dearest,
Land that the sons of the Saxons will hold!

Hasten, of house-karls, north to the Dane-Law
Harold Hardrada's come over the sea
His longships he's laden with berserks from Norway
To gain Cnut's crown and our master to be
Bitter he'll find there the bite of our spear points
Hard-running Northmen too strong to die old
We'll grant him six feet, plus as much as he's taller
Of land that the sons of the Saxons will hold!

Make haste, son of Godwin, southward from Stamford
Triumph is sweet and your men have fought hard
But William the Bastard has landed at Pevensey
Burning the land you have promised to guard
Draw up the spears on the hilltop at Hastings
Fight 'til the sun drops and evening grows cold
And die with the last of your Saxons around you
Holding the land we were given to hold!

Repeat first verse.
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Song of a Forgotten God
Words by Tawnee Darkfalcon Music by Scarhart

Where have all my children gone?
It didn't seem I'd slept so long.
All the beauty's gone away;
It was here just yesterday.

Butterflies no longer sing,
Faerie bells no longer ring.
Gone the dancers of the mist;
Mortals whom the gods once kissed.

No more riders in the sky.
Never more shall dragons fly.
Stranger can you tell me why
All I've ever loved has died?

Who are you who walk this land?
Death is happy in your hand.
You pretend that I'm not real,
Not believing what you feel.

I'm tempted to strike you down,
Don again my crystal crown;
Take you back to yesterday...
But, instead, I think I'll just go away....
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St Golias-ville
(TTTo Marguritaville by Jimmy Buffet)

Livin on poundcake, watchin the sun bake
All of those fighters covered in armor
Beatin' my baudraun, by the pavilion
Smell of the steaks out there on the fire

Wastin' away again in St Golias
Lookin' for my lost bottle of scotch
And some people claim, that theres a woman to blame
But I know, It's nobody's fault

Don't know the reason, I came to this e-vent
Nothin for sure but this black an' blue bruise
But it's a real beauty, an armor bite doosey
How it got here I haven't a clue

Wastin' away again in St Golias
Lookin' for my lost bottle of scotch
An' some people claim, there's a woman to blame
But I think, Hell it could be my fault

Stepped in a chuck hole, blew out a buckle
Tore up my leg, had to cruise on back home
But theres beer in the cooler, though it could be cooler
That golden liquid that helps me hang on

Wastin' away again in St Golias
Lookin' for my lost bottle of scotch
An' some people claim that theres a woman to blame
But I know, It's my own damn fault

Yes and some people calim that theres a woman to blame
But I'm glad, It's my own damn fault
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Star of The County Down
-From Van Morrison & The Chieftains; Irish Heartbeat

Bainbridge Town in the County Down
One mornin' last July
From a boreen green came a sweet Colleen
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut brown hair
Such a coaxing Elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there

CHORUS:
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and
From Galway to Dublin Town
No maid I've seen like brown Colleen
That I met in the County Down

As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head
And I looked with a feelin' rare
And I say's, say's I, to a passer by
Whose the maid with the nut brown hair?
He smiled at me and he say's, say's he
That's the gem of Ireland's crown
It's Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
She's the star of the County Down

Chorus

At the Harvest Fair she'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked
Right for a smile from my nut brown rose
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
Till my plow turns rust colored brown
Till a smile bride, by my own fireside
Sits the star of the County Down

Chorusx3
CHORDS (from http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/star-county-down.html)
E  G D
E D
E G D
E D E
G D G>
E D
E G D
E D E
Chorus:
E G D
E D
E G D
E D E
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The Streets of Ann Arbor
(c) 1974, 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Streets of Laredo")
http://www.locksley.com/joeb/songbk.htm#72
 

As I walked out thru the streets of Ann Arbor
as I walked out thru Ann Arbor one day
I spied a young Mongol all dressed in white linen
all dressed in white linen and cold as the clay

I then spied another, done in on the sidewalk
along with just about six dozen more
their wounds were all gaping, from mace and from broadsword
from claymore and cannon, all dripping with gore

what caused this grave carnage, I cried to the Mongols
oh pray what's the reason for this awful sight
my answer came slowly from under the corpse-pile
"It seems that our bark is much worse than our bite....."

the answer continued from pale lips a-shaking
we sang all our songs and believed them as true
the Dark Horde could never be beaten in battle
we thought this was what all good Mongols could do...

we went down to Atenveldt all for to plunder
"too large to defend" was our song every night
but Atenveldt's different from East, West or Middle
there, even the bushes have learned how to bite!

the Clann stole our ponies, the Scraelings our foodstuffs
we ran into axes in AtenViking hands
our maidens ran off with one Richard of Arkham
and we're all that's left to return to our lands

MacChluarains and Monsters, Lockehaven and Foxmoor
that Kingdom is BIG and its' fighters are MEAN!
we fought and we lost, and fled back to Ann Arbor
we all came back home with results that you've seen

keep away from that Land with its' cactus and marshes
it's no place for Mongols who are bent on War
they count their blows well, but they strike them yet better
he crawled into his Yurt, and fell, dead, on the floor.....

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Strike The Bell Second Mate
Traditional

Down on the quarter deck and walking about,
There is the second mate so steady and so stout;
What he is a-thinkin' of he doesn't know himself
And we wish that he would hurry up and strike, strike the bell.

Chorus: Strike the bell second mate, let us go below;
Look ya well to windward you can see it's gonna blow;
Look at the glass, you can see it has fell,
Oh we wish that you would hurry up and strike, strike the bell.

Down on the main deck and workin' at the pumps,
There is the starboard watch just longing for their bunks;
Look out to windward, and see a great swell,
And we wish that you would huffy up and strike, strike the bell

Forward on the forecastle head and keepin' sharp lookout,
Yonder Johnson standin', a-longin' fer to shout,
Lights' a-burnin' bright sir and everything is well,
And he's wishin' that the second mate would strike, strike the bell.

Aft at the wheelhouse old Anderson stands,
Graspin' at the helm with his frostbitten hands,
Lookin' at the compass through the course is clear as hell
And he's wishin' that the second mate would strike, strike the bell.

Aft on the quarter deck our gallant captain stands,
Starin' out to sea with a spyglass in his hand,
What he is a-thinkin' of we know very well,
He's thinkin' more of shortenin' sail than strikin' the bell.
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Suantree (Hush Song)

Sweet babe, a golden cradle holds thee;
Soft a snow white fleece enfolds thee;
Fairest flow'rs are strewn before thee;
Sweet birds warble o'er thee:
Sho heen sho lo! Shoe Heen sho lo lo!

Oh! Sleep, my baby, free from sorrow,
Bright thou'lt open thine eyes tomorrow;
Sleep while o'er thy smiling slumbers
Angels chant their numbers:
Shoheen Sho lo!
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Such a Parcel of Rouges
-Robert Burns
Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame
Fareweel our ancient glory
Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name
Sae famed in martial story
Now Sarkrins o'er the Solway sands
An' Tweed runs to the ocean
To mark where England's province stands
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

What force or guile could not subdue
Thro' many warlike ages
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valors station;
But English gold has been our bane-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

O, would, or had I seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us
My auld grey head had lien in clay
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace
But pith and power, till my last hour
I'll make this declaration-
"We were bought and sold for English gold"
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
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Susanna Martin
Traditional
Words only http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=SMARTIN

Susanna Martin was a witch who dwelt in Amesbury
With brilliant eye and saucy tongue she worked her sorcery
And when into the judges court the sheriffs brought her hither
The lilacs drooped as she passed by
Ane then were seen to wither

A witch she was, though trim and neat with comely head held high
It did not seem that one as she with Satan so would vie
And when in court when the afflicted ones proclaimed her evil ways
She laughed aloud and boldly then
Met Cotton Mathers gaze

"Who hath bewitched these maids," he asked, and strong was her reply
"If they be dealing in black arts, ye know as well as I"
And then the stricken ones made moan as she approached near
They saw her shaped upon the beam
So none could doubt 'twas there

The neighbors 'round swore to the truth of her Satanic powers
That she could fly o'er land and stream and come dry shod through
showers
At night, twas said, she had appeared a cat of fearsome mien
"Avoid she-devil,"they had cried
To keep their spirits clean

The spectral evidence was weighed, then stern the parson spoke
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, tis written in the Book"
Susanna Martin so accused, spoke with flaming eyes
"I scorn these things for they are naught
But filthy gossips lies"

Now those bewitched, they cried her out, and loud their voice did ring
they saw a bird above her head, an evil yellow thing
And so, beneath a summer sky, Susanna Martin died
And still in scorn she faced the rope
Her comely head held high

Susanna Martin was a witch who lived in Amesbury
With brilliant eye and saucy tongue she worked her sorcery
And when into the judges court the sheriffs brought her hither
The lilacs drooped as she passed by
And then were seen to wither
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Sweet Dublin Bay
(Traditional- From Silly Wizard: Kiss The Tears Away)

They sailed away on that gallant barque
Roy Niell and his fair young bride
They had ventured all on that bounding ship
That danced on the silvery tide
And his heart was young, and his spirit light
As he kissed her tears away
And they watched the shore retreat from sight
Of their own sweet Dublin Bay

Three days they sailed when the storm arose
And the lightnin' swept the beam
When the thunder crash broke the sharp repose
Of the wee three sailors sleep
Roy Niell he clasped his weepin' bride
And he kissed the tears away

"Oh aloft was a fear for lower" he cried
"When we left sweet Dublin Bay"
On the crowded deck of that doomed ship
Some fairlander did despair
And some o'er come wi' a whole yuir hearts
Of the God of the storm an' prayer
"She has struck a rock" the sailors cried
An' their breath of wild dismay
And that ship went down wi' the fair young bride
That sailed from Dublin Bay

They sailed away in that gallant barque
Roy Niell and his fair young bride
They had ventured all on that bounding ship
That danced on the silvery tide
But his heart was young, and his spirit light
As he kissed her tears away
And they watched the shore retreat from sight
Of their own sweet Dublin Bay
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