Get all 10 Merry Hadaway releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Soul-Cake, Rosebud in June, The Donkey, The Lady of the Woods, Down in Yon Forest, Tell Me Where the Ocean Went, Sigh No More, Ladies, Dancing Day: songs for Christmas and Yule, and 2 more.
1. |
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1.
The holly and the ivy
When they are both full-grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holy bears the crown.
Chorus.
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry organ
Sweet singing in the choir.
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2. |
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There fared a mother driven forth,
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the Yule tale was begun.
A child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - - - how long ago!
In a place no chart no ship can show
Under the sky's dome.
The world is as wild as an old wife's tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where crashed and thundered unthinkable winds
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller tower than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
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3. |
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1.
Tomorrow shall be my dancing day,
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus.
Sing, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love
This have I done for my true love.
2.
Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance,
Thus was I knit to man's nature,
To call my true love to my dance.
3.
In a manger laid and wrapped I was,
So very poor, this was my chance,
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass,
To call my true love to my dance.
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4. |
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The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)
The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at him,
And all the stars looked down.
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5. |
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1.
Villagers all, this frosty tide,
Let your doors swing open wide,
Though wind may follow, and snow beside,
Yet draw us in by your fire to bide;
Joy shall be yours in the morning!
2.
Here we stand in the cold and the sleet,
Blowing fingers and stamping feet,
Come from far away you to greet -
You by the fire and we in the street -
Bidding you joy in the morning!
3.
For ere one half of the night was gone,
Sudden a star has led us on,
Raining bliss and benison -
Bliss to-morrow and more anon,
Joy for every morning!
4.
Goodman Joseph toiled through the snow -
Saw the star o'er a stable low;
Mary she might not further go -
Welcome thatch, and litter below!
Joy was hers in the morning!
5.
And then they heard the angels tell
"Who were the first to cry 'Nowell'?
Animals all, as it befell,
In the stable where they did well!
Joy shall be theirs in the morning!"
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6. |
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I syng of a mayden
þat is makeles,
kyng of alle kynges
to here sone che ches.
He came also stylle
þer his moder was
as dew in aprylle,
þat fallyt on þe gras.
He cam also stylle
to his moderes bowr
as dew in aprille,
þat fallyt on þe flour.
He cam also stylle
þer his moder lay
as dew in Aprille,
þat fallyt on þe spray.;
Moder & mayden
was neuer non but che –
wel may swych a lady
Godes moder be.
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7. |
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1.
Oh will ye sing of carven stone,
That masons build so high?
And will ye sing of oak and ash,
That reach across the sky?
I will sing of holly-trees
That take no note of snow,
And I will sing of ivy leaves
That climb and twine and grow.
Chorus.
For ivy she grows patiently,
On oak and ash and stone
While holly springs up by himself
And holly grows alone.
2.
Oh will ye sing of office-blocks
Where thousands trudge along?
And will ye sing of public bars,
Where voices lift in song?
I will sing of holly-trees
Sufficient to themselves,
And I will sing of ivy leaves,
And roots that twine and delve.
3.
Oh will ye sing of garden beds
That careful workmen tend?
And will ye sing of paths and roads
That wander, twist and bend?
I will sing of holly-trees
That need no careful hand
And I will sing of ivy leaves
That never straight-wise stand.
4.
Oh will ye sing of moss so dark
That grows in woodland shade?
And will ye sing of honey bright
Of which is braggot made?
I will sing of holly-trees
That grow whereso they will
And I will sing of ivy leaves
That crown each drunkard still.
5.
Oh will ye sing of gentle death
And snow so quiet and cold?
And will ye sing of life renewed
And crocus red and gold?
I will sing of holly-trees
That stand so strong and green
And I will sing of ivy leaves
The fairest tree we've seen.
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8. |
Somerset Wassail (trad.)
02:18
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1.
Wassail and wassail all over the town,
The cup it is white and the ale it is brown,
The cup it is made of the good ashen tree,
And so is the malt of the best barley.
Chorus.
For it's your wassail and it's our wassail,
And it's joy be to you and a jolly wassail.
2.
Oh master and missus, are you all within?
Pray open the door and let us come in
Oh master and missus a-sitting by the fire
Pray think on us poor travellers a-travelling in the mire.
3.
Oh where is the maid with the silver-headed pin
To open the door and let us come in?
Oh master and missus, it is our desire
A good loaf and cheese and a seat by the fire.
4.
There was an old man and he had an old cow
And how for to keep her he didn't know how,
He built up a barn for to keep his cow warm,
And a drop or two of cider will do us no harm.
5.
The Girt Dog of Langport he burned his long tail
And this is the night we go singing wassail
Oh master and missus now we must be gone
God bless all in this house until we do come again.
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Merry Hadaway Stonehaven, UK
Folk singer, ukulele player and songwriter. Queer, disabled, trans, Christo-Pagan, powered by waves and mountains. :-)
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