Lyrics and Songs

Joy to the World

For a pagan approach to Christmas, Yule, or the Winter Solstice, here is a variation to the traditional Christian Christmas Carol, “Joy to the World.” Same melody, just different words. Enjoy!

Joy to the World, the Light has come
Let Earth receive her Lord
Let every heart, prepare Him room

And Heaven and Nature sing
And Heaven and Nature sing
And He-av’n and Heaven and Nature sing!

Welcome our Lord, who brings us Light
Our Lady gives him birth!
His Living Light, to warm our hearts,

And wake the sleeping Earth
And wake the sleeping Earth
And wake and Wake the sleeping Earth.

Light we the fires to greet our Lord
Our Light, our Life, our Lord!
Let every voice, sing holy praise

And Heaven and Nature sing
And Heaven and Nature sing
And He-av’n and Heaven and Nature sing!

From Green Egg Magazine

Ye Children All of Mother Earth

For a pagan approach to Christmas, Yule, or the Winter Solstice, here is a variation to the traditional Christian Christmas Carol, “It Came Upon a midnight clear..” Same melody, just different words. Enjoy!

Ye children all of Mother Earth
Join hands and circle around.
To celebrate the Solstice night
When our lost Lord is found.

Rejoice, the year has begun again
The Sun blesses skies up above
So share the season together now
In everlasting love!

From Green Egg Magazine

Song to Pomona

A silver dew lies on the Autumn grasses,
Autumnal sunshine habits every tree;
From each bejewelled bough there slowly passes
Immeasured scent and sweetness up to thee,
Pomorum Patrona! Pomorum Patrona!
O hear, as thou wert wont to hear of old,
Though guardian goddess of red and gold.

Banners, above thine orchard temples flying.
Flame a new splendour from each glowing glade,
And radiant hills of clustered light are lying
Beneath the lichened pillars on the shade,
Pomorun Patrona! Pomorum Patrona!
O give, as thou wert wont to give of old,
Though guardian goddess of red and gold.

With ample stores abundantly she blesses
Each nesting hamlet of the hills and plains,
Shaking within their thirsty cider-presses
The glory garnered from her woodland fanes.
Pomorun Patrona! Pomorum Patrona!
We praise thy name with voices of young and old,
Though guardian goddess of red and gold.

~ Arthur Rackham

Sleepyhead

As I lay awake in the white moon light,
I heard a faint singing in the wood,
‘Out of bed,
Sleepyhead,
Put your white foot now,
Here are we,
Neath the tree
Singing round the root now!’

I looked out of window, in the white moon light,
The trees were like snow in the wood–
‘Come away,
Child, and play
Light with the gnomies;
In a mound,
Green and round,
That’s where their home is.
Honey sweet,
Curds to eat,
Cream and frumenty,
Shells and beads,
Poppy seeds,
You shall have plenty.’

But soon as I stooped in the dim moon light
To put on my stocking and my shoes,
The sweet sweet singing died sadly away,
And the light of the morning peeped through:
Then instead of the gnomies there came a red robin
To sing of the buttercups and dew.

– Walter de la Mare

Cold Iron

“Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid —
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.”
“Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
“But Iron — Cold Iron — is master of them all.”

So he made rebellion ‘gainst the King his liege,
Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege.
“Nay!” said the cannoneer on the castle wall,
“But Iron — Cold Iron — shall be master of you all!”

Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong,
When the cruel cannon-balls laid ’em all along;
He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall,
And Iron — Cold Iron — was master of it all!

Yet his King spake kindly (ah, how kind a Lord!)
“What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?”
“Nay!” said the Baron, “mock not at my fall,
For Iron — Cold Iron — is master of men all.”

“Tears are for the craven, prayers are for the clown —
Halters for the silly neck that cannot keep a crown.”
“As my loss is grievous, so my hope is small,
For Iron — Cold Iron — must be master of men all!”

Yet his King made answer (few such Kings there be!)
“Here is Bread and here is Wine — sit and sup with me.
Eat and drink in Mary’s Name, the whiles I do recall
How Iron — Cold Iron — can be master of men all!”

He took the Wine and blessed it. He blessed and brake the Bread.
With His own Hands He served Them, and presently He said:
“See! These Hands they pierced with nails, outside My city wall,
Show Iron — Cold Iron — to be master of men all.”

“Wounds are for the desperate, blows are for the strong.
Balm and oil for weary hearts all cut and bruised with wrong.
I forgive thy treason — I redeem thy fall —
For Iron — Cold Iron — must be master of men all!”

“Crowns are for the valiant — sceptres for the bold!
Thrones and powers for mighty men who dare to take and hold!”
“Nay!” said the Baron, kneeling in his hall,
“But Iron — Cold Iron — is master of men all!
Iron out of Calvary is master of men all!”

by Rudyard Kipling

Summer Invocation

Fireflies and summer sun
in circles round
we become as one.
Singing songs at magick’s hour
we bring the winds
and timeless powers.
Turning inward, hand in hand
we dance the hearth
to heal the land.
Standing silent, beneath the sky
we catch the fire
from out God’s eye.
Swaying breathless, beside the sea
we call the Goddess
so mote it be!

~by Trish Telesco

(This can be used as a chant, part of a spiral dance, or to invoke quarters.)

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