  |
|
Advice to Ladies
©1995 by Morgan Wolfsinger mka Catherine Demott Come all ye fine ladies and listen to me If you think maid or lover is acting too free If suspicions arouse and there is many a clue Just pray it's a woman and not, say, a ewe. Chorus And it's men, men, drink to the men Drain mug or goblet, and raise it again. Although they are trouble they're still one in ten It's worth every minute, so drink to the men. Oh men are strange critters, and given to lust, And rare is the one who is worthy of trust. When love is concerned in such matters one knows, They're best led around by the balls, not the nose. Chorus Now if you find out that his love is a sheep, Don't worry , she's warm and she's easy to keep. She'll not ask for diamonds or rubies or wine, And served up with mint sauce she'll taste mighty fine. Chorus If he looks for too long now, and boys are his choice, Don't cry them out fool, lass, stand up and rejoice. His new lighter love might be manly and fair And if you ask sweetly then maybe he'll share. Chorus If his heart's desire seems really quite young In fact at an age where a lullaby is sung Just send off a note the town constable's way Then smile, give her cookies and send her to play. Chorus Now should your love's taste run to leather and chains Jelly and butter and other things strange If such does amuse you then join in the fun If not see that he is the receiving one. Chorus If worse comes to worse, now, and he's his own love Don't send up your cries to the heavens above Just dust off his clothes, give his mirror a shine And you and his ego will get along fine. Chorus If you've found no comfort in what I have said, You're tired of his quirks and you wish he was dead. Don't slice up your lover, for murder's a crime Just find you another and have a good time. Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
 | |
|
Anne Boleyn Song
In the Tower of London large as life, The ghost of Anne Boleyn walks, they declare Poor Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife, Until he made the headsman bob her hair Ah, yes, he did her wrong long years ago And she comes out at night to tell him so.... Chorus With her head, tucked, underneath her arm, She walks the bloody tower With her head, tucked, underneath her arm At the midnight hour She's come to haunt King Henry, She means giving him what for Gadzooks, she's going to tell him off For spilling all her gore, And just in case the headsman wants to give her an encore She has her head tucked underneath her arm Chorus Sometimes gay King Henry gives a spread For all his Earls and churls a ghostly fun The headsman carves the joint and cuts the bread Til Anne Boleyn comes in to spoil the run She holds her head up with a wild war hoop! And Henry cries "Don't drop it in the soup!" Chorus One night she found King Henry, He was in the Canteen Bar Said he "Are you Jane Seymore, Anne Boleyn, or Katherine Parr? How the sweet St. Parian do I know who you are? With your head tucked underneath your arm?" Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Artan's Toy
by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long filk: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Good Lord Artan MacDarach Had a very big ego And if you ever saw him, He would say that he had grown! He liked to build big toys, So he built a trebusche. Thought he could hurl some TP When he brought it out to play. Then one winter solstice eve Lord Stephen set us right. "Lord Artan let that TP fly, It hit my helm and was not light!" Then all the fighters cheered him, And we shouted out with glee. "Well," said Artan MacDarach, "That's medieval history." | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Black Widows in the Privy
by Heather Rose Jones
Everyone knows someone we'd be better off without But best not mention names for we know not who's about. But why commit a murder and risk the fires of hell When black widows in the privy can do it just as well. Now poison's good, and daggers, and arrows in the back And if you're really desperate you can try a front attack. But are they really worth the risk of being caught When black widows in the privy need not be bribed or bought? So if there's one of whom wish most simply to be rid Just wait 'til dark then point the way to where the widows hid And say to them "I think you'll find that this one is the best", And black widows in the privy will gladly do the rest. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Brisk Young Butcher
Its of a brisk young butcher as I have heard them say He started out of London town all on a certain day Says he, "A frolic I will have my fortune for to try I will go into Liestershire some cattle for to buy." When he arrived at Leister town he stopped into an inn He called forth a hosteler and boldly he walked in He called for liquors of the best and being a rambling blade He quickly fixed his eyes upon the lovely chambermaid. Then she took up a candle to light him up to bed And when she came into the room these words to her he said "One sovereign I'll give to you all to enjoy your charms." And this fair maid all night did sleep all in the butcher's arms. 'Twas early the next morning he arose to go away The landlord said, "Beg pardon, Sir, You have forgot to pay." "Oh, no," the butcher did reply, "Pray do not think it strange One sovereign I gave you maid, and I haven't got the change." They straightway called the chambermaid and charged her with the same The golden sovereign she lay down for fear she'd get the blame The butcher he again went home well pleased with what was past And soon this pretty chambermaid grew thick about the waist. 'Twas in a twelvemonth after he came to town again And then as he had done before he stopped at that same inn 'Twas then the buxom chambermaid she chanced him for to see She brought a babe just three months old and placed him on his knee. The butcher sat like one amazed and at the child did stare But when the joke he did fine out how he did stamp and swear She said, "Kind Sir it is your own, pray do not think it strange One sovereign you gave to me and here I've brought your change." | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Chastity Belt
O say, gentle maiden, may I be your lover? Condemn me no longer to mourn and to weep! Cut down like a hart, I lie wounded and fainting Let down your drawbridge, I'll enter your keep. Enter your keep, nonny, nonny Enter your keep, nonny, nonny Let down your drawbridge, I'll enter your keep. Alas, gentle errant, I am not a maiden. He's caged me in armor, that cunning old Celt! He's off to the wars for a twelve-month or longer And taken the key to my chastity belt. Taken the key, nonny, nonny Taken the key, nonny, nonny And taken the key to my chastity belt. Fear not, gentle maiden, for I know a locksmith To his forge we will go, at his door we will knock. To try and avail of his specialized knowledge And see if he's able to unpick your lock. Unpick your lock, nonny, nonny Unpick your lock, nonny, nonny And see if he's able to unpick your lock. "Alas, Sir and Madame, to help I'm unable. My technical knowledge is of no avail. I can't find the secret of your combination; The cunning old bastard has fitted a Yale! Fitted a Yale, nonny, nonny Fitted a Yale, nonny, nonny The cunning old bastard has fitted a Yale! The knight's squire returned with sad news of disaster. "A terrible mishap I have to confide: As our ship was passing the Straits of Gibraltar The knight and the key, they went over the side. Over the side, nonny, nonny Over the side, nonny, nonny The knight and the key, they went over the side." Alas and Alack! I am locked up forever! But up spoke a blacksmith, saying "Leave it to me." "'Twas I forged your belt, I forged the key also And as a precaution I've copies made three: One for his Lordship, one for the High Priest But only one fits and I kept that for me. Kept that for me, nonny, nonny Kept that for me, nonny, nonny But only one fits and I kept that for me. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Chortle
by Gunnar Redbeard ©1988 by R.A. Boyd Twas the morning after the night before a scene sublime and rare. Wherever I looked in corner and nook lay bodies everywhere! The noble, the meek, the Baron and all lay huddled on the floor With a chorus of moans and sighs and groans as if we'd lost a war! I feel no disgrace to follow my tastes amid the feast and cheer. Nor does it distract to scoff at the fact I touch not wine nor beer. I sip on my Coke and laugh at their jokes, the butt of fun to some, And angered not as they fell down besot; the dawn has yet to come! The morning begins, the night's jovial friends wallow in their sorrow. And I bid each one a hearty "Good Morn!" (I'll hate myself tomorrow!) I am avenged as they stumble and cringe in agony sublime. Twas the morning after the night before and my head feels just fine! | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Circles
By Gwen Zak Filk: Windmills In days gone by, when the world was much younger Men wondered at spring, born of winter's cold strife Wondered at the games of the moon and the Sunlight, They saw there the Lady and Lord of all life. Chorus And around and around and around turns the good Earth All things must change as the seasons go by We are the children of the Lord and the Lady Whose mysteries we know, but we'll never know why. In all lands the people were tied with the good Earth Plowing and sowing as the seasons declared Waiting to reap of the rich golden harvest Knowing her laugh in the joys that they shared. Chorus Through Flanders and Wales and the green land of Ireland In kingdoms of England and Scotland and Spain Circles grew up all along the wild coastline And worked for the land with the sun and the rain. Chorus Circles for healing and working the weather Circles for knowing the Moon and the Sun Circles for thanking the Lord and the Lady Circles for dancing the dance never done. Chorus And we who reach for the stars in the heavens Turning our eyes from the meadows and groves Still live in the love of the Lord and the Lady The greater the Circle, the more the love grows. Chorus Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Closer to Daylight
by Ceara ni Neill, ©1999 filk: Closer to Eleven by Lyra and Rael of Preachain filk: Closer to Fine by the Indigo Girls We traveled to the Fool's War of Meridies With many bottles of good brew And the meat of Ailsun's deer Pop Chiv said the party would be a big one. So we set out with our mugs to have much fun This was war practice, after all. Yeah..right. Into our camp came friends from the Consortium. With good songs & good cheer within their hearts Then the Period Police appeared to wreck our campin' But Lord Uilleagh chased them off with his "O Narseman" He is Spearcatcher, after all. Chorus We started at our camp And moved on to their camp And everywhere we reveled We raised the noise level And the more I think about it and look back in time, I wish that I had brought more wine. And I must keep an eye on the time, The closer it gets to daylight. The closer it gets to daylight. I need to seek the Herald of Meridies And bring to Baron Hywel my tales of woe I tried to get my name passed And sent in my device They get shot down with comments that are not nice But it's only paper after all. And I must submit it til I get it right, The closer it gets to daylight. Sir Bryce stumbled by the fire at 3 am To seek solace in Drambouie and to drum with some good friends A dancer lost a tassel, it got stuck in Gryffri's ear I went over to him and said, "Have a beer, Hips do project things after all." Chorus Lord Malcolm and Sir Theatyn soon joined us Sir Fiachna told us legends of the Yam. Someone said "potato", Then he said "po-tah-to". And then the knight caught Malcolm drinking beer, So he bade us all goodnight. Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Cois na Teineadh
by T.W. Rolleston
Where glows the Irish hearth with peat There lives a subtle spell... The faint blue smoke, the gentle heat, The moorland odours tell Of white roads winking by the edge Of bare, untamed land, Where dry stone wall of ragged hedge Runs wide on either hand. To cottage lights that lure you in From rainy Western skies; And by the friendly glow within Of simple talk, and wise, And tales of magic, love or arms From days when princes met Too listen to the lay that charms The Connacht peasant yet, There honour shines though passions dire, There beauty blends with mirth-- Wild hearts, ye never did aspire Wholly for things of earth! Cold, cold this thousand years-- yet still On many a time-stained page Your pride, your truth, your dauntless will, Burn on from age to age, And still around the fires of peat Live on the ancient days; There still do living lips repeat The old and deathless days. And when the wavering wreaths ascend Blue in the evening air, The soul of Ireland seems to bend Above her children there. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Crafty Maid's Policy
author
Come listen awhile and I'll sing you a song Of three merry gentlemen riding along They met a fair maid and to her did say "We’re afraid this cold morning will do you some harm." "Oh, no, kind sir," said the maid, "You’re mistaken To think this cold morning will do me some harm. There's one thing I crave which lies twixt your legs. If you give me that, it will keep me warm." Then since you do crave it, my dear, you shall have it If you'll come with me to yonder green tree; Then since you do crave it, my dear you shall have it I'll make these two gentlemen witness to be. So the gentleman lighted and straightway she mounted And looking the gentleman hard in the face Saying, "You knew not my meaning, you wrong understood me." And away she went galloping down the long lane. "Oh, gentlemen, lend me one of your horses That I may ride after her down the long lane If I overtake her, I' warrant I'll make her Return unto me my own horse again." But soon did this fair maid she saw him a-coming She instantly then took a pistol in hand Saying, "Doubt not my skill that you I would kill I'll have you stand back or you are a dead man." "Oh why do you spend you time here in talking? Oh, why do you spend you time here in pain? Come, give her a guinea, it's what she deserves And I warrant she'll give you your horse back again." "Oh, no, kind sir, you're badly mistaken If this is his loss, well, this is my gain And you were a witness that he gave it to me." And away she went galloping down the long lane. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Do Virgins Taste Better
by R. Farran filk: The Irish Washerwoman A dragon has come to our village today. We've asked him to leave, but he won't go away. Now he's talked to our king and they worked our a deal: No more homes will he burn and no crops will he steal. Now there is but one catch, we dislike it a bunch: Twice a year he invites him a virgin to lunch. Well, we've no other choice, so the deal we'll respect, But we can't help but wonder and pause to reflect: Chorus Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Are they salty, or sweeter, more juicy or what? Do you savor them slowly? Gulp them down on the spot? Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Now we'd like to be shed you, and many have tried But no one can get though your thick, scaly hide. We hope that some day, some brave knight will come by, 'Cause we can't wait around 'til you're too fat to fly. Now you have such good taste in your women for sure, They always are pretty, they always are pure. But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch For your favorite entree is barbecued wench. Chorus Now we've found a solution, it works out so neat, If you insist on nothing but virgins to eat. No more will our number ever grow small, We'll simply make sure there's no virgins at all! Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Early Mournin' Dew
by Mary Taran of Glastobury filk: Leavin' on a Jet Plane Oh, your shield is hacked from many a blow, I'm standing here, though you don't know, I hate to wake you up to see you die. But the shield wall is breaking, it's battered and torn, The herald's calling , he's blowing his horn Already I am mournin' for your hide. Chorus So wake up and fight for me, Tell me that you'll die for me. Hurry and get armored up and go. You'll go out there and get slain. I don't know if you will fight again. Oh, my lord, you have to go. There's so many times they've knocked you down, So many times you've lost a round, I tell you now, they don't mean a thing. Every battered helm is worn by you. Every mace they swing, they swing at you. If you come back, I'll mend your chain mail rings. Chorus Now the time has come to wake you One more time must I shake you You soon will be deep within the fray. Think about the days to come While you go out there all alone, About the time I won't have to say: Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Fairy’s Love Song
Chorus Why should I sit and sigh Pulling bracken, pulling bracken? Why should I sit and sigh On a hillside dreary? When I see the plover* rising Or the curfew* wheeling Then I know my mortal lover Back to me is stealing. Chorus Ah, but there is something wanting; Oh but I am weary! Come by, blithe and bonny laddie, O’er the knoll to cheer me. Chorus *plover: a bird, related to the sandpiper. *curfew: a bird, related to the woodcock. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Favor
by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long filk: Rossann nel Coir (recorded by Scartaglen) Ireland's sun is shining today But my heart does not bask in it's rays For my lover has gone off to battle And he carried the favor of fair Faye. Promised he me never to leave, But to steal his heart Faye did achieve Now he leaves me, alone, to my own fate Since for her my love he did betray. Come they, come they, suitors aplenty; I send, I send them away For my lover, he's gone into battle, Though he carried the favor of fair Faye. Ireland's sun is shining today, But my heart does not bask in its rays. For my brothers have gone into battle For to gain my honor thrown away. And I went to the battlefield today And from his belt, pulled the favor of fair Faye. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Four Drunken Maidens
traditional English
There were three drunken maidens, come from the Isle of Wight They drunk from Monday morning non-stop 'til Saturday night When Saturday night came 'round me boys, they would not then go out These three drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. Then up come handsome Sally, her cheeks as red as bloom Move up me jolly sisters, and give young Sally room! For I'll be your equal before we ten go out These four drunken maidens they pushed the jug about. There's woodcock and pheasant, there's partridge and hare. There's all sorts of dainties, no scarcity was there. There's forty quarts of beer me boys, they fairly drunk them out These four drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. Then up come the landlord, he's asking for his pay It's a forty pound bill, me boys, these girls have got to pay That's ten pounds apiece, me boys, but still they wouldn't go out! These four drunken maidens, they pushed the jug about. Oh where are your feathered hats, your mantles rich and fine? They've all been swallowed up in tankards of good wine. And where are your maidenheads, you maidens brisk and gay? We left them in the alehouse, we drunk them clear away! | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Froggy Song
by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long When I was a young lass of fourteen and two, I went to a witch who could tell fortunes true. But I swear that that witch cast a spell upon me For since then I've only eyes for men slimy green. Chorus Someday I will find my true horny-toad. My kiss will change him to a fine, handsome rogue But with my luck, he'll love me and leave me to be A-lookin' for another frog to kiss and marry me. I hear a frog croaking near yonder deep pond. His voice is so deep, it makes my heart grow fond! Perhaps he's a large toad with back spotted brown; He'll change to a fine prince with hair to the ground! Chorus "Come to me, sweet Ceara," he croaked with a smile. "Aye, here lass, sit by me and chat for a while. I'll tell you a story, you'll sing me a song. We'll frolic together 'til dusk becomes dawn!" "I hear thee, dear Toadie, but what if I do? Perhaps there's no spell and your words are untrue." "Then kiss me, I beg of you, for I know well To regret today is better than no story to tell." Chorus With eyes closed, my lips touched his skin, damp and cold; I feared of the warts of which I had been told. But my wondering eyes opened to find such a treat A stately, tall, and handsome prince with perfect webbed feet! Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Gilda and the Dragon
by Cynthia McQuillin
Sir Loren undertook a quest, the maiden Gilda seeking. He found her in a dragon's bed, from 'neath the covers peeking. "What seek you here, Sir Loren dear?" the dragon asked with guile. The noble knight could not but note the dragon's sated smile. "Why smilest thou, Lord Dragon, sir?" asked our hero in armor laden? "Why, you'd smile too," the worm replied, "if you'd just eaten a maiden." "Such candor," this young lordling cried, "must touch upon dishonor!" The dragon grinned his lecherous grin and once more was upon her. "Cease and desist!" Sir Loren cried, his fine steel blade a-flashin'. "Oh, slay him not!" young Gilda cried, her voice a play of passion. "Was ever a maid so tried as I betwixt desire and honor? I should demand you slay the beast, but he stirs in me such ardor!" "Fie, fie!" Sir Loren cried to her. "What foolishness is this? Would you deny you lord and land all for a dragon's kiss?" Intently he did search her face, then frowned in deep dismay As she shed a tear for honor's sake, and sent him on his way. "Why smilest thou, Lord Dragon, sir?" asked our hero in armor laden? "Why, you'd smile too," the worm replied, "if you'd just eaten a maiden." | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Greensleeves
traditional
Alas, my love, you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously. And I have loved you so long Delighting in your company. Chorus Greensleeves was all my joy Greensleeves was my delight Greensleeves was my heart of gold And who, but my Lady Greensleeves. I have been ready at your hand To grant what ever you would crave. I have both waged life and land Your love and good will for to have. Chorus Thou couldst desire no earthly thing But still thou hadst it readily Thy music still to play and sing And yet thou wouldst not love me. Chorus Well I will pray to God above That thou my constancy may'st see For I am still thy lover true Come once again and love me. Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Gypsy Rover
traditional
The gypsy rover came over the hill, Bound though the valley so shady He whistled and he sang 'till the green woods rang And he won the heart of a lady. Ah dee doo, ah dee doo dah day Ah dee doo, ah dee day dee He whistled and he sang 'till the green woods rang And he won the heart of a lady. She left her father's castle gate, She left her own true lover. She left her servants and her estate To follow the gypsy rover. Ah dee doo, ah dee doo dah day Ah dee doo, ah dee day dee She left her servants and her estate To follow the gypsy rover. Her father sadled his fasted steed, He roamed the valley all over. He sought his daughter at great speed And the whistling gypsy rover. Ah dee doo, ah dee doo dah day Ah dee doo, ah dee day dee He sought his daughter at great speed And the whistling gypsy rover. He came at last to a mansion fine Down by the River Claydee, And there was music and there was wine For the gypsy and his lady. Ah dee doo, ah dee doo dah day Ah dee doo, ah dee day dee And there was music and there was wine For the gypsy and his lady. "He is no gypsy, my father," she said, But lord of tehse lands all over; And I will stay 'till my dying day With my whistling gypsy rover." Ah dee doo, ah dee doo dah day Ah dee doo, ah dee day dee And I will stay 'till my dying day With my whistling gypsy rover." And I will stay 'till my dying day With my whistling gypsy rover." | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
If I Only Had a Bard
©1997 by Ceara ni Neill filk: If I Only Had a Brain (from the Wizard of Oz), with added chorus In my hair I would wear flowers And he'd sing songs by the hour If I only had a bard; Even if his jokes are corny He would always make me...happy If I only had a bard! Chorus And a heigh and a ho, and a heigh, nonny no, If I only had a bard! And a heigh and a ho, and a heigh, nonny no, And he always would be...happy! Where I sit on I'd wear rabbit I'd put woad on out of habit If I only had a bard. I could dance around with flutes And maybe tighten up my glutes If I only had a bard! Chorus We'd hold contests during dinner For to see who is more limber, If I only had a bard. I'd eat beef and he'd eat sweet-meats But he'd always keep his beard neat, If I only had a bard! Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Johnny Be Fair
And I would marry Johnny but me father up and said, "I'm sad to tell you, daughter, what your mother never knew, But Johnny is a son of mine, and so is kin to you." Oh, Robin be fair, and ..... Oh, Sean be fair, and ..... ( Change names as needed, repeat as many times as you want. ) You never saw a girl so sad and sorry as I was, The boys in town are all my kin and my father is the cause. If life should thus continue I will die a single miss, So I will go to Mother and complain to her of this. "Well, daughter, haven't I taught you to forgive and to forget, And if your father sowed his oats, well, still you needn't fret. Your father may be father to all the boys, but still, He's not the one who sired you, so marry who you will." | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Lest We For Love
by Robert Fitzmorgan
To see you now my heart would burst, For I have loved you from the first. My lady, I must go away Lest we for love should love betray. With all my heart I've served your lord Since I was knighted by his sword. Near you I can no longer stay, Lest we for love should love betray. Our love it is a dreadful sin Yet still I have this love within For it to end I daily pray Lest we for love should love betray. I stood with him when my lord wed And heard the vows you and he said. Hold fast to what you pledged that day Lest we for love should love betray. My lady I must leave you now For I'd not have you break your vow. Our parting I cannnot delay Lest we for love should love betray. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Local SCA
by somebody in Three Rivers Barony(?) filk: God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen Arrest these merry gentles, nay it would be so unkind, If you'll but wait a moment sir, we will relieve your mind. We are not escaped lunatics, so kindly us unbind, For we are your local SCA, SCA For we are your local SCA. These men aren't wearing dresses, sir, those are not panty hose. No, those are tights and tunics, sir, they are medieval clothes. And men were really macho then, as everybody knows, So please do not look upon us that way, For we are your local SCA. We recreate past ages, sir, and that is all we do. Please give our swords and knives to us. We'd like our axes, too. Return us all our weapons, sir, the act you will not rue For we mostly use them for display, display. For we are your local SCA. We really are not dangerous, although we like to fight. We do it on a tourney field, you see, so it's all right. And we wear lots of armor, too, like any noble knight, And use our wooden sticks to whale away, whale away For we are your local SCA. Oh, we pavanne in public sir, the horse bransle do also. Full many a fine feast attend and to a revel go. And all that night we sing and drink, for free the mead doth flow, Then drive four hundred miles the next day, the next day, For we are your local SCA. We have a King and Prince who do our loyalty command I'm from Forth Castle shire fair, the finest in the land. And we are on our way to court, but not the one you planned. Oh, please let us go upon our way, our way. For we are your local SCA. Arrest these merry gentles, nay, discretion you should use. For we are lords and ladies, so how can you refuse? I say, that is a lady, sir, you should not her abuse. It is not genteel to act this way, this way, And lock up your local SCA! | |
| Back to top | |
| |
| The Mightiest Weapon Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a King who was growing bored after a feast one night. He decided to hold a contest of who at the court had the mightiest "weapon". The first knight stood up and proclaimed that he had the mightiest weapon. He pulled down his pants and tied a 5-pound weight around himself, but the weapon did rise. The crowds cheered, the women swooned, the children waved multi-colored banners and the minstrels played appropriate music. Another knight stood up and called out that he had the mightiest weapon. He dropped his pants and tied a 10-pound weight to himself, yet the weapon rose. The crowds cheered, the women swooned, the children waved multi-colored banners and the minstrels played appropriate music. After several more knights tried to prove their superiority, successively tying heavier weights, the king finally spoke out. "I have the mightiest weapon of all." He dropped his pants and tied not a 10, not 20, not even 30, but a 60-pound weight to himself. The weapon doth rose. The crowds cheered, the women swooned, the children waved multi-colored banners and the minstrels played "God Save the Queen". | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
My Love Come Late in Life
by Aislinn
Oh, my love come late in life, Who for a time is mine There's not a rose blooms by itself But others round it twine. You came and took me by the hand And fair you spake my name; And fair you looked into my eyes And I to you the same. We walked in gardens of the sun And danced the circle gay The moon she sent her blessings down, And likewise did the day. Oh, Lady, bless this bed of love Whereon we two do lie And may our souls cling hand in hand Far past the day we die. And glad I am the pact was made And glad the deed was done No matter in whose arms you've lain We still will be as one. Go take the lady you must claim, Go take her by the hand Our love is for another life, Live this one as you can. Oh, my love come late in life Who for a time was mine There's not a rose blooms by itself But others 'round it twine. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
No Lady
by Dierdra Mulleabhar mka Debra Eccles I am no lady born, I am the child of a hungry serf. But I am fair or so men say, And so they came to me for mirth. They had their way and left behind A cold and lonely heart, So I asked for coins and jewels and such Before they could depart. I had a little bag I hid Where never man could see, And in this bag of mine I stashed My coins and my jewelry. With passing time, my hoard it grew Till I had a sufficient sum To buy a house and pretty clothes. I knew leaving time had come. So I moved to another land My identity I hid And there it was I quickly found Lords to do as I would bid. They no longer had their way with me, For they thought me a lady fair And I hid all I'd done from them. No secrets did I bare. A noble knight, a handsome lord Whose heart did for me yearn Spoke of marriage. I said "Yes." He had his will in turn. I am a good and loving wife To all the world it seems. And for myself? I now have found A little of my dreams. Yes, I will be so good to him That he will think it love, But I will not give my heart to him, For by the stars above; If I gave my heart to him, I might tell him of my youth; And I would lose what I have gained If I told him the truth. Yes, you may think me cold; You may think me unkind. But life is as it is for me, And I return just what I find. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Old Time Religion
filk: traditional hymn
Chorus Give me that old time religion, Give me that old time religion, Give me that old time religion, That's good enough for me! 1. Meeting at the witching hour By the bud and branch and flower Folks are raising up the power That's where I want to be! 2. We shall worship with the Druids Drinking strange fermented fluids Running naked through the woo-ids And that's good enough for me. 3. Let us gather in our saunas When the Spirit comes upon us To perform the rites of faunas, That's good enough for me! 4. I'll rise early in the morning When the sun gives me the warning That the solar age is dawning Well, that's good enough for me. 5. Let us go and worship Hermes; Got a staff that crawls with wormies That could knock out all the germies, He's good enough for me. 6. We went off to worship Venus And by gosh, you should have seen us! Now the clinic has to screen us, But she's good enough for me! 7. We will pray to Aphrodite Even though she's rather flighty And they say she wears no nighty And that's good enough for me. 8. If your rising sign is Aries, You'll be taken by the fairies Meet the Buddha in Benares, Where he'll hit you with a pie. 9. Good old Thor, the god of Thunder Really helped us get our plunder Tho' his head's still truly dunder, He's still good enough for me. 10. We will pray with those Egyptians Build pyramids to put our crypts in Cover subways with inscriptions, And that's good enough for me. 11. Oh, old Odin we will follow And in fighting we will wallow 'Til we wind up in Valhallo And that's good enough for me. 12. It was good enough for Loki, It was good enough for Loki, He thinks Thor's a little hokey, But it's good enough for me. 13. If you think religion's awful And you've really had your crawful Just be sure your acts are lawful Or they'll all be after thee. 14. Pan and all the satyrs brayed in Chorus when they saw a maiden "What a faith to get a-laid in!" And it's good enough for me. 15. Well, Pan's pipes got plugged last summer And it really was a bummer. Finally had to call a plumber, But it's good enough for me. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Pennsic, Soon Around the Corner
by Ceara ni Neill mka Alexandria Long The summer wanes, the winter it cools. We realize, my love, we were only fools. But care we not of our lot, For Pennsic is soon around the corner. So shine your boots and your armor well And take care your battle stories, they do not swell. For when ye do fight, then the truth it will tell! For Pennsic is soon around the corner. And brew ye lots of ale and mead. You can ne'er brew too much for to fill your need! And bring ye your cup when you come to sup, For Pennsic is soon around the corner. To minstrels, bards, afar I hail: Come sing us your songs and drink of our ale! And the dancers will dance to the drummers' beat true For Pennsic is soon around the corner. So smile, my love and dry your eyes As the grass on the battlefield waves at the sky We'll frolic together and meet many others For Pennsic is soon around the corner. So pack ye your tent and your garb and your sword And if there is room, you can pack even more. You can ne'er bring too much to the Pennsic War! Aye, Pennsic is soon around the corner. Aye, Pennsic is soon around the corner. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Rose, Rose
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose, Will I ever see thee wed? I will marry at thy will, Sire At thy will. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Signs
by Lord Erik MacSwaser, inspired by Char ibn Bashar filk: Signs And the sign says, "Long haired freaky people, come on over and play." So I looked around and scratched my head and said "It's just the SCA." They said, "You look like a fine outstanding war band, we think you'll do." So I put on my hat and said "Imagine that, me fighting with you." Chorus Signs, signs, where'd they put the signs? Blocked behind the scenery, so hard to find. Drive here don't drive there, Where'd they put the signs? And the sign says, "At the next intersection, you must take a right. Then just keep on driving, you can't miss the site. They put up the signs to help me find places that I'd never been But I got lost, those signs were so small. Man, they were some kind of sin. Chorus Well hey now mister, can't you see? You've got to be a peer of the realm to get seated. You can't watch, no you can't eat. You ain't supposed to be here. And the sign says, "You have to have a waiver filled out to get on site. And the sign says, if you've got court business, you're going to have to wait. The heralds lost your paperwork and court's runnin' late. So I got me a quill and some parchment, and I made out my own AOA And when next I saw their Majesties, I just turned and went on my way. Chorus Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Simple Joys of Maidenhood
from the soundtrack of "Camelot"
Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Where are all those adoring, daring boys? Where's the knight pining so for me He leaps to death in woe for me? Oh, where are a maiden's simple joys? Shan't I have the normal life a maiden should? Shall I never be rescued in the wood? Shall two knights never tilt for me And let their blood be spilt for me? Oh, where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Shall I not be on a pedestal, Worshiped and competed for? Not be carried off, or better still, Cause a little war? Are those sweet, gentle pleasures gone for good? Shall a feud not begin for me? Shall kith not kill their kin for me? Oh, where are the trivial joys? Harmless, convivial joys? Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Skye Boat Song
traditional
Chorus Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, "Onward," the sailors cry! Carry the lad that is born to be king, Over the sea to Skye! Loud the Winds howl, loud the waves roar, Thunderclaps rend the air, Baffled our foes stand on the shore, Follow they will not dare. Chorus Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep, Ocean's a royal bed; Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep Watch by your weary head. Chorus Many's the lad fought on that day Well the claymore could wield When the night came, silently lay Dead on Culloden's field. Chorus Burned are our homes, exile and death Scatter the loyal men Yet e'er the sword cool in the sheath, Charlie will come again. Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Star of the County Down
traditional
Near to Bainbridge town in the County Down One morning last July Down the boreen green came a fair colleen And she smiled as she passed me by. She looked so sweet from her two bare feet To the crown of her nut-brown hair Such a winsome elf, sure I shook myself For to see I was really there. Chorus From Bantry Bay to Derry Quay And from Galway to Dublin Town No maid I've seen like the brown colleen, That I met in the County Down. As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head And I gazed with a feeling rare "I says," says I , to a passer-by, "Who's that maid with the nut-brown hair? He smiled at me, and with pride says he, "That's the gem of Ireland's Crown," "Young Rosie McGann from the banks of the Bann She's the star of the County Down." Chorus At the harvest fair she will surely be there So I'll dress in my finest clothes, For I'd wear sheep's hides and be crucified For the heart of my nut-brown rose. No pipe will I smoke; nor horse will I yoke Though the plow turn a rust-colored brown 'Til shining bright by my own fireside Is the star of the County Down. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Tavern Song
©1996 by Ceara ni Neill
One evening in the winter In a tavern that I know well A man dressed in plaid, he smiled my way And he said these words, these words to me: Chorus Lassie, will ye pass the mead? Tis a gift of the gods and the wild honey-bee To bring laughter and life to those who would drink Won't ye come and have some, and have some with me? His words, they warmed my racing heart And with a smile, I did reply Take me where ye will, I'll drink my fill And I'll drink to you, to you besides. Chorus He took my hand, we walked by the riverside The moonlight, it shone our way Then he looked in my eyes at the rest of our lives And I'll never, no never, never leave his side. Chorus 1/2 Chorus To bring laughter & love to those who would drink Won't ye come and have some, and have some with me | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Temperance Union
We're coming, we're coming, our brave little band, On the right side of temperance we do take our stand. We don't use tobacco because we do think That the people who use it are likely to drink. Chorus Away, away with rum, by gum, With rum, by gum, with rum, by gum! It's the song of the Temperance Union! We never eat fruitcake because it has rum, And one little bite turns a man to a bum. Can you imagine a sorrier sight Than a man eating fruitcake until he gets tight? Chorus We never eat cookies, they make them with yeast, And one little bite turns a man to a beast. Can you imagine such a sorry disgrace, As a man in the gutter with crumbs on his face? We never drink Coke 'cause it's made from cocaine, And you night as well shoot it right into your vein. Can you imagine a sorrier bind Than rotting your teeth while blowin' your mind? Chorus We never drink tea 'cause it comes from a pot And that could be evil as likely as not We don't mind the taste, but it's really bad news, To get busted for holding what Tom Lipton brews. Chorus We don't step on grapes because that's making wine, And one single stomp turns a man into swine. Can you imagine a fouler defeat, Than a man getting schnockered by licking his feet? Chorus Shun girls who are witty and pretty and kind. There's nothing like love for corrupting your mind. At least in our circle, it just isn't done Our kids are adopted. We never have fun! Chorus So drinking and eating and loving, you see, Are bound to destroy spirituality. Our tastes are austere and our virtue is sure. We don't have much fun, but our honor is pure. Chorus | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Three Blind Laurels
by Symon d'Auvergne
filk: Three Blind Mice
Three blind laurels Three blind laurels See how they judge See how they judge They all ran up to the Queen one night And altered her gown with a carving knife Have you ever seen such a sight in your life As three blind laurels? (repeat ad nauseum) | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Too Much of a Good Thing
By Peggy Seeger
On a Monday night he came to my door And he made such a din Get up, get up you darling girl And let your lover come in. Well I got up and I let him in And on me he did fall It was five o'clock in the morning Before I got any sleep at all. On Tuesday night he came to my door The joys of love to tend Get up, get up, you darling girl Before I go' round the bend. Well I got up and I let him in And in my arms he lay I had to hear the stroke of four Before he'd go away. On Wednesday night he came to my door A little late in time I'd have been here sooner, you darling girl, But the hill's so hard to climb. I hadn't been long all in his arms Before he let me be Then out of the house and down the road Just after the stroke of three. On Thursday night he came to my door So weary and so slow Oh, give me a drink, you darling girl And then to work we'll go. Well all night long he fought with it But I had to help him through And I heard him sigh as he rose to go, It's only after two. On Friday night he came to my door Shaking in every limb Get up, get up you darling girl Get up and carry me in. Well I got up and I carried him in And gently laid him down But hardly could his spirits rise To reach the stroke of one. On Saturday night he came to my door, He came on his hands and knees Oh, don't come down, you darling girl, Stay home and let me be. Well I got up and I let him in But he fell down in a swoon And though often I tried to raise him up He lay 'til Sunday noon. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Two Magicians
She looked out of the window, as white as any milk And he looked in at the window as black as any silk. Chorus Hello, hello, hello, hello, you coal black smith You have done me no harm But you never shall have my maidenhead That I have kept so long. I'd rather die a maid, ah, but then she said, And be buried all in my grave, Than to have such a nasty, husky, dusky, fusky, musky, coal black smith; A maiden I will die. She became a duck A duck all on the stream And he became a water dog And fetched her back again. She became a star A star all in the night And he became a thunder-cloud And muffled her out of sight. Chorus She became a rose, A rose all in the wood And he became a bumble bee And kissed here where she stood. Chorus She became a nun A nun all dressed in white And he became a canting priest And prayed for her by night. Chorus She became a trout, A trout all in the brook And he became a feathered fly And catched her with his hook. Chorus She became a corpse A corpse all in the ground And he became the cold clay And smothered her all around. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Unquiet Grave
by Thomas Bordeaux
The wind doth blow today my love And a few small drops of rain I never had but one true love In a cold grave she was lain. I'll do as much for my true love As any young man may I'll sit and mourn all at her grave For a twelve month and a day. The twelfth month and a day being up The dead began to speak Saying, "Who sits weeping on my grave And will not let me sleep?" 'Tis I my love sits on your grave And will not let you sleep For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips And that is all I seek. You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips But my breath smells earthly strong. If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips, Your time will not be long. It's down in yonder garden green Love, where we used to walk The finest flower that e'er was seen Has withered to a stalk The stalk has withered dry, my love So will our hearts decay. So make yourself content, my love 'Til God calls you away. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Wager
My lady and her maid Upon a merry pin They made a match at farting Who should the wager win. Joan lights three candles then, And sets them bolt upright With the first fart she blew them out With the next she gave them light. In comes my lady then, With all her might and main And blew them out And in and out And in and out again. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
Welsh History 101
by Heather Rose Jones filk: The Ash Grove If ever you wander out by the Welsh border Come stop by and see me and all of my kin. I'm Morgan ap Dafydd ap Gwion ap Hywell Ap Ifor ap Madoc ap Rhodri ap Gwyn. 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 has come across raiding Slain six of my kinsmen and burned down my hall. It cannot be borne, this offense, this injustice! I've only killed four of his, last I recall. I'll send for my neighbors, Llewellyn and Owain We'll cut him down as for the border he rides! But yesterday Owain stole three of my cattle So first I'll retake them and three 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 Gruffydd Is best for the job, as I'm sure you'll agree. What matter that Rys is the old prince's nephew? He's sailed off 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. Yes, we are just plain folk who mind our own business Honest and loyal and full of good cheer So if ever you wander out by the Welsh border Come stop by and see all the friendly folk here. | |
| Back to top | |
| |
|
The Witch, the Bagge and the Bishop
from Handlyng Synne
There was a witch, and she made a bagge A belly of leather, a great swagge She conjured this belly bagge That it went and sucked mans cattle At evening and at the morning time In their pasture, or else where beside Long it went about and faste Until it was perceived at the laste. Then all goode men of the towne, Before the bishop did her summon They did also bear the bagge with her To see what she would answer to. It was shown before the bishop How she got such a milk-sop Through witchcraft and misadventure, To suck their cattle in their pasture. The bishop marveled and the others did more That how she might make the bagge go Dame, said the bishop do thy conjuring And let us see how it shall ryse This witch here did a charm begin to seye The bagge rose up and began to move The bishop "This we have seen; Do it now, to lye still again." The witch did alle at hys will She made the bagge again, stand still. The bishop made the clerk to write All she said, and did, in detail. And all how she made the bagge here go. The bishop then got the written extract Then said the bishop "Now shall I As thou has done do thy conjuring." The bishop began the charme to read. And as she did, he did indeed He said and did in every detail Right as she did he did as welle. The bagge stayed as still, it did not move For him it rose not off the floor. Why! He cried, does it not rise? I have done all your little ways. And said the words, no less or more Why will it not leave the floor? I've conjured just as you would do Why for me will it not move? Nay said she, why should it move? You do not believe it will as I do! Would you believe the words as I do And it will go and suck a cow He said "Then all I faileth in is faith?" She said "That helpeth all my works!" And so it is oure lawe, Belief is more than the sawe For thou may'st say what thou wilt But if thou believe it, or else is all spilt. Alle that I said I believe it well! My belief hath done the deed in all detail The bishop commanded that she should not Believe the work that she had wrought. And as such made an end on it. Here now we wyte believe will make There the words no might may take. The bishop sayde the words each one But believe therein had he known No more shall it avail thee That believest not there where belief should be. | |
| |
