Category: Original Songs

Posted on

An Ode to Boorish Critics Everywhere

An Ode to Boorish Critics Everywhere
Aneleda Falconbridge, November 2008

It was a heated and a rufty day
though the sky above was clear.
From beneath a bonny shady tent
fair music wafted dear.
It drifted on the gentle breeze
like honey to the ear,
but honey draws the wasps out
and one quickly buzz-ed near.

“Your strings are not correct
That box is not hand-hewn.
There are no museum samples –
I saw all of them last June.
If you want to play around here
you had better get it right
for I’m the so-and-so-and-so
whose mouth is never tight.”

The Lady was a fighter,
but to this she did demur.
The incident she did recall:
’twas but a little burr.
She mentioned it in passing
and it caus-ed quite a stir –
Now everybody join the ode
to the rude and boorish cur!

“That song is not correct
you play a modern tune.
A piece played in your century
would not be so festooned.
If you want to play around here
you had better get it right
for I’m the so-and-so-and-so
whose mouth is never tight.”

Raise a glass ye singy ones
to critics near and far!
A smile to those with merit.
A shrug to those who spar.
Touch off your cacophony
with sackbutt and guitar
and entertain the many,
from the vintner to the czar.

Siiiiiiinnnngggg…
“My song is not correct!
My repertoire I’ll prune!
There are no museum samples?
Sir, this news has made me swoon!
Oh, I’d like to make an ode m’lord
please confirm while you’re in sight

That you’re the so-and-so-and-so…

That you’re the so-and-so-and-so…

‘Cause I’m a bardic so-and-so-and-so
whose mouth is never tight!!!”

A tale of sympathy for Lady Lann – a tale of The Bard and the Bee In
Her Bonnet. There’s no certain tune yet – but it should be perky. But
not particularly period. Probably could be played well with a
12-string. Or a banjo. 😉 Note to any boorish, grumpy people –
it’s all in fun. – Aneleda

Posted on

On Christmas Day

Merry Christmas to all my friends! You have been marvelous gifts to me, each and every one of you. Thank you!

http://www.mbouchard.com/misc/OnChristmasDay.mp3

 

The sun did rise on Christmas day,

And unto him the moon did say

There is Good News I must convey –

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

A blue clad maiden mickle mild

Has brought forth this night a a little child

He shall be worshiped and reviled

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

Laudamus te. Benedicimus te.
Adoramus Jesu Christe

 

At the moment of His birth

A dazzling star flamed o’re the earth

Trumpets and angels sang His worth

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

A multitude then filled the sky,

Bid shepherds to the new King fly

In fear and joy they did comply

Gloria in excelsis deo,


Laudamus te. Benedicimus te.
Adoramus Jesu Christe

 

In softest straw the babe was laid

As shepherds and kings their homage paid

And sheep and oxen softly brayed

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

All gathered round this little stall

To greet the King so very small

Born here as savior to us all

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

Laudamus te. Benedicimus te.
Adoramus Jesu Christe

 

Anew now does our world begin

For God as Man has entered in

To save each one from death and sin

Gloria in excelsis deo,

 

Sing out with  praise Emmanuel (Gloria)

Play the loud harp and ring the bell (Gloria)

For God has come with us to dwell (Gloria)

Gloria in excelsis deo, (Gloria)

 

Laudamus te. Benedicimus te.
Adoramus Jesu Christe (Gloria)

 

Posted on

Follow Me

This song is featured on the CD “I Am of the North” available for purchase online at:  http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aneledafalconbridge/

I longed to be a gentle rose,
A flower sweet and fine.
It seems I’m better as the thorn,
But I hope you’ll still be mine.

To be a maiden shy I tried,
It made a laughing play.
I cannot pretend beneath this helm
That I am meek today.

Oh follow me, oh follow me
out on the fields of war
and you shall find devotion true
unlike ever seen before.

Fine silk I tear while running round,
satin dresses I wear through,
Though with solid armor on my form
I shall ever fight for you.

I will not feel your fingers warm
beneath my gauntlets bright
but if you’ll be sturdy as my sword
then all my world is right.

Oh follow me, oh follow me
out on the fields of war
and you shall find devotion true
unlike ever seen before.

I cannot dance as gracefully
as all those pretty maids,
but I will stay strong as fine steel
As their beauty slowly fades.

I cannot give to you that life
of calm domestic bliss
But follow me, and take my heart
you’ll ne’er regret this.

Oh follow me, oh follow me
out on the fields of war
and you shall find devotion true
unlike ever seen before.

*** *** ***

This song is one that I think perhaps comes from my service as bardic champion. As I reflect in the cold of autumn, and ready to visit Tir Mara to see the rattan and A&S championships, where I’ll bring my husband and son with me for the first time in a while, I started to think about what kinds of things I thought I would be, and what I turned out to be.

I’m not a domestic girl, but a tomboy, perpetually. I loved palling around on the field and arming up and thudding across Pennsic, as I’ve loved thudding across the kingdom this year. I have especially loved the moments when my war brothers and sisters have made me feel, quite ironically, like the strongest of all delicate flowers – they reminded me that I am more beautiful in my strength than in any coy weakness. So this song is for them.

And my sweet, quiet husband is dragged into my madness with such patience, that this song became one about asking one you love to come with you for the ride, promising that really, it will be worth it. So this song is for him.

Posted on

Crown Tourney List Rules List – in Gregorian Form

When the King calls, one must be always ready with an answer.

I had long ago decided, even before becoming the King’s champion, that I would be ready any time that I was asked to perform. (Thank you Coxcomb Academy!) That I would always have something up my sleeve, and that I would not refuse an opportunity or request when given one, no matter how off-guard, awkward, or surprised I might be. I have had the dubious excellent fortune to have served fine Kings who have given me ample opportunity to test my own promise to myself.

King Lucan called on me to perform without notice, quite regularly, starting with his Coronation, and so I always for him had something at the ready, or at least a thought in mind should he call upon me to serve. King Gregor has proven a canny and witty challenger and has nearly got me off my guard, especially at the fall Crown Tournament, when the above video was recorded, when he asked, in the middle of the reading of the list rules, that I sing them instead.

I have always thought that it would be a hoot to read the list rules, as a personal challenge, to see if people would listen to them, for they are indeed rote and dry.  So someone put a bug in the Brigantia Herald’s ear and I got to read them! King Gregor loomed over my shoulder as I read the first rule, and then stopped me, and, to my astonishment, asked that I sing them instead. I thought I’d had an auditory hallucination, but no, he had indeed asked me to sing them. Thankfully I didn’t stand there as slack-jawed as I felt apparently, and I replied, “Ah, well then, Your Majesty, would Gregorian suffice?” “Yes, that will do,” said His Majesty.

And so, deeply thankful for all those years as church cantor, I sang the rules of the list (with a few theatrics added). I was grateful to see that the lovely Mistress Kayeligh McWhyte had taken video of the thing as it happened, because I know it happened so quickly I scarcely remembered it. The choral “Amen” at the end just sealed it perfectly.

It will remain one of the most memorable performances I have ever had in the SCA, and the laughter of the crowd will be carried with me for many, many of the darkening days of winter. To add to the sweetness of this, Dutchess Aikaterine and Countess Althea gave me their token at the court, when the Ladies of the Rose recognize deeds they witnessed during the day. They are most often given to combatants, and so it was a great surprise to hear Althea’s musical voice speaking of the start of the day and the entertainment and cheer which the list rules brought. I am incredibly touched by that tiny golden rose, and grateful to King Gregor for giving me such an opportunity to entertain and amuse.

Below are the rules of the list, which were read and sung at Crown. I should have quizzed people later to see if they remembered them! For some reason, “No projectile weapons” is the one that sticks in my mind.

The Rules of the Lists are reprinted from Appendix B of the Corpora of the SCA.

1. Each fighter, recognizing the possibilities of physical injury to him or herself in such combat, shall assume unto himself or herself all risk and liability for harm suffered by means of such combat. No fighter shall engage in combat unless and until he or she has inspected the field of combat and satisfied himself or herself that it is suitable for combat. Other participants shall likewise recognize the risks involved in their presence on or near the field of combat, and shall assume unto themselves the liabilities thereof.

2. No person shall participate in Combat-Related Activities (including armored combat, period fencing, combat archery, scouting, and banner bearing in combat) outside of formal training sessions unless he or she shall have been properly authorized under Society and Kingdom procedures.

3. All combatants must be presented to, and be acceptable to, the Sovereign or his or her representative.

4. All combatants shall adhere to the appropriate armor and weapons standards of the Society, and to any additional standards of the Kingdom in which the event takes place. The Sovereign may waive the additional Kingdom standards.

5. The Sovereign or the Marshallate may bar any weapon or armor from use upon the field of combat. Should a warranted Marshal bar any weapon or armor, an appeal may be made to the Sovereign to allow the weapon or armor.

6. Combatants shall behave in a knightly and chivalrous manner, and shall fight according to the appropriate Society and Kingdom Conventions of Combat.

7. No one may be required to participate in Combat-Related Activities. Any combatant may, without dishonor or penalty, reject any challenge without specifying a reason. A fight in a tournament lists is not to be considered a challenge, and therefore may not be declined or rejected without forfeiting the bout.

8. Fighting with real weapons, whether fast or slow, is strictly forbidden at any Society event. This rule does not consider approved weaponry which meets the Society and Kingdom standards for traditional Society combat and/or Society period rapier combat, used in the context of mutual sport, to be real weaponry.

9. No projectile weapons shall be allowed and no weapons shall be thrown within the Lists of a tournament. The use of approved projectile weapons for melee, war, or combat archery shall conform to the appropriate Society and Kingdom Conventions of Combat.

Thus ends the Rules of the Lists. Amen.

Posted on

There Was a Bard in London Town

…OR the Brutal Entertainment of Murdering a Bard in a Group Effort.**

BY Aneleda,  Aoife, Toki, Miriam, Leo, Alan, Ian, Meredith and Jean.

There was a bard in London town
who in her jest ticked off the Crown
o’re the square they hung her upside down
from atop the Tow’r of London.

A priest was called to give the rites;
they held him ore’ her by his tights
There he became afraid of heights
There on the Tow’r o’ London.

The priest was hauled back up the wall
But could ever hear the singing call
That echoed off each stoney wall
Within the Tow’r o’ London.

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

Soon came the carrion birds so black
They sat upon her hanging back
And planned to have a little snack
Utop the Tow’r o’ London.

One crow said, “Brothers, here’s a treat!
Our friend—the bard is made of meat.
Her words offend, but she tastes sweet,
here atop the Tow’r of London.”

They left her chords alone, the crows,
Picking bits off of her toes
And so the Bard’s high voice it rose
From atop the Tow’r of London.”

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

The bard could not her jesting cease
“Look at how they flock like geese
“to watch me go to final peace
“Atop the Tow’r o’ London.”

The birds they dined upon her eyes
they were not troubled by her sighs
The crowds below could watch her die
from atop the Tow’r o’ London.

The Bard made rhymes while crows did peck
a bob-and-wheel ‘bout bleeding neck.
“I could complain, but what the heck!
I’m atop the Tow’r o’ London.”

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

…“All you folk out in the crowd
“Think you not that I am proud?
“To make my best and final bow’d
Atop the Tow’r o’ London.

Ere she become a love-ed clown
the sheriff tried to take her down
but was hit with fruit throughout the town
seen from the Tow’r o’ London.

…They sent the executioner
to take the curly head from her
but alas, he was a saboteur
atop the Tow’r o’ London.

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

The sabateur was stern and hard,
but he took a shine to the curly bard.
(Did I say that sabateur was hard?)
atop the Tow’r o’ London.

The Knight from Thanet, with regret,
was sent to cease the red-haired threat
but with remorse was he was beset
atop the Tow’r o’ London.

A count was sent, with a sharpened knife
to end her song, and take her life.
Instead her took her, like a wife.
atop the Tow’r o’ London.

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

no sounds now issued from her throat
but her soul was not yet in charon’s boat
though her body tossed down to the moat
from atop the Tow’r o’ London.

The bard could swim well – like a fish
she’s fled the moat with a great swish
and the count and she both got their wish
soaked ‘neath the Tow’r o’ London.

The bard, the count, they’re on their way
and rumoring is here to stay
The crows are now acting the play
Atop the Tow’r o’ London.

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

But a bard’s voice carries far and wide
While she searched for a place to hide
Her jest still echoed clear inside,
In walls and Tow’r o’ London.

At last the noisy bard was found
They killed her dead upon the ground,
but even dead she made a sound!
echo’d the Tow’r o’ London.

Lucan’s muse, though gone away,
Her bardic tales they still do play,
the legends trace is here to stay
Haunting the Tow’r o’ London.

To be a bard is rather hard
varitas et cantus
to bear the weight of truth and song
can get a girl in trouble-o.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

It kind of has its own melody, but Toki claims it scans to “16 Tons” pretty well too.

**So- I made a smart comment one day about what would happen if a hypothetical royal bard really ticked off the Royals. Then I mused a quatrain, and posted it on Facebook, and someone responded.  Then another person chimed in, and I realized that frankly, either this was really motivating bardic or a LOT of people want me dead!  I pledged to sing this in the road in front of our camp at 7pm War Tuesday at Pennsic, because I was too lowly to sing it IN camp. Anyway, I sang it. All 20+ verses. It’s been sung twice, once in the middle of Bytheway and once at the VDK encampment.

(The post that inspired this, ahem, brilliant idea is this: Plotting for Pennsic makes me think that I would have rocked at court intrigue. Except that I’m mostly transparent, and a lousy poker player. Ok, nevermind, I would totally have been beheaded or locked in the Tower of London. (Upside, there’d now be a singing ghost! What a tourist attraction!)