The goddess was sleeping within the cold earth, Waiting for the sounds that foretold the spring’s birth, The thump of the hares on the new fallen snow, Said life had awakened, in the soil below. Ostara she shook out her bonny red hair, And breathed in the frost, and tasted the cold air, But she spied a young sparrow, lying under a tree, Hatched out of it’s egg, too soon broken free. The heart of the goddess, was heavy and torn, Had she slept in too late, that bright star of the morn, She took the limp sparrow, into her warm hand, And looked out upon awakening land. Your wings I can’t mend, from the cold they are bare, But I’ll give you the form of a swift running hare, Swapping feathers for fur, you will stay safe and warm, In your nest on the ground in the harsh winter storm. And once every year, when the spring voice is heard, You will lay a sweet egg, just as you were a bird, And in all of the world, my praises they’ll sing, For the merciful goddess that brings in the spring.
Project Tag: Pagan Songs
Cad Goddeu (The Battle of the Trees)
A contemplation of the Ogham, by Daniel Kelly – 2021
The Chieftain Trees
These are the trees, chieftains eight, Their stories I will now relate,
Worshiped by the Celts of old, Stories in the Ogham told.
Venice on the Alder stands, The mighty tree of ancient Bran,
By the lake or river side, Its flute will call the wind to ride.
The Oak made Arthur’s table round, As above are the roots down in the ground,
The wood that makes the strongest door, The greens man’s face it covers o’er.
Nine Hazel trees of wisdom grow, By Holy Well that lets you know,
Its wand is good to heal your ills, Set Brigid’s wood on window sill.
The Blackberry bush holds sweet surprise, But thorns will cut your arms and thighs,
Chew the leaves for gums that bleed, Leave some berries for the fairies feed.
The Ivy lives in coldest ice, Cut it down, it grows back twice,
Great Bacchus wore the ivy wreath, From liquor’s snare it brings relief.
The Blackthorn makes a sturdy stick, Its thorn will give a nasty prick,
Beware of the Lunantisidhe, If you cut the wood near samhain’s day.
I sing now of the bonny Broom, Its brilliant yellow dispels doom,
As hedge it keeps the fairies out, Its flowers made the Vikings stout.
The Heather in the summer blooms, When burned with fern the thunder looms,
Of passion of the flesh it speaks, And consequence in 40 weeks.
The Peasant Trees
These are the trees, peasants eight, Their stories I will now relate,
Worshiped by the Celts of old, Stories in the Ogham told.
The Birch is for a start that’s new, The Lady of the Woods holds true,
The Besom sweeps the leaves away, And a beating keeps spirits at bay.
The Rowan berry to catch a bird, Its wood to guard from magic word,
Trust protection of the five point star, The bow will fly your arrows far.
The Willow weeps by river side, Your sorrow you can there confide,
Sacred tree of the Goddess Moon, It’s bark will ease your pain in swoon.
Yggdrasil, the world’s ash tree, Where Odin hung, the runes to see,
Ash handles have the witches broom, Of Ash was Gwydion’s great wand hewn.
Bathe in the dew of the Hawthorn tree, If strong and fair you wish to be,
White flowers on the first of May, Surround the pole on this sacred day.
The Spindle wood for making thread, Don’t eat the berries, or you’ll be dead,
Craft your arrow straight and true, For needles fine, this wood will do.
The Apples grow on Avalon’s Isle, From Iduna’s hand, the Norse gods smile,
Gold upon a silver bough, Music that would sleep allow.
The Holly king his crown does wear, Spikey leaves your skin will tear,
Never eat the berries red, The Holly wand sees spirits fled.
The Shrub Trees
These are the trees, shrubs of eight, Their stories I will now relate,
Worshiped by the Celts of old, Stories in the Ogham told.
The reed down by the river stands, Make Brigid’s cross with skillful hands,
Magic flute or voice of pipe, Shelter for curlew and snipe.
Elder be the lady’s tree, Burn it not or cursed you’ll be,
Sacred wine from berries brewed, Death the path to live renewed.
The Elm can yield a bow or drum, A coffin when your life is done,
Odin and his brothers two, From Elm the first woman did hew
The Aspen trembles in the breeze, A sturdy shield is made of these,
A leaf under your tongue do place, To speak with eloquence and grace.
The Yew lives for a thousand years, It’s berries red will bring you tears,
The wood that makes a sturdy bow, Roots they grasp the dead below.
The woodbine in a spiral grows, Honeysuckle fragrance flows,
Tended by the moth at night, Loved by Lugh, god of light.
The Beech it prospers with our spells, Within the queen of forest dwells,
Holder of the written word, Carve your wish and have it heard
A Pine cone head on Bacchus staff, Clear your head and start to laugh,
The needles brewed into a tea, long life and clear eyes to see,
Jólakötturinn (Yule Cat)
By Daniel Kelly – 2020
Am G Am Soft paws step on the snow at night, C G Em Am Yellow eyes gleam in the midwinters light, Am G Am Peering through windows scratching at doors, C G Am G Am Checking if people have done their chores. C G Am G Am Jola Kurttinn, the Christmas cat, C G Em Am Clothe your children or he’ll grow fat, C G Am G Am For every good parent surely knows, C G Am Jola eats children without new clothes. Spin the wool, work hard in the field, Save your krona or your fate is sealed, Make sure the new clothes go under the tree, For prowling Jola to clearly see. Next time your cat climbs the Christmas tree, A child of Jola, they just might be, Waiting for you to forget the clothes, So they can dine on your children’s toes.
Battle of the Trees – Part 2
These are the trees, peasants eight, Their stories I will now relate, Worshiped by the Celts of old, Stories in the Ogham told. The Birch is for a start that’s new, The Lady of the Woods holds true, The Besom sweeps the leaves away, And a beating keeps spirits at bay. The Rowan berry to catch a bird, Its wood to guard from magic word, Trust protection of the five point star, The bow will fly your arrows far. The Willow weeps by river side, Your sorrow you can there confide, Sacred tree of the Goddess Moon, It’s bark will ease your pain in swoon. Yggdrasil, the world’s ash tree, Where Odin hung, the runes to see, Ash handles have the witches broom, Of Ash was Gwydion’s great wand hewn. Bathe in the dew of the Hawthorn tree, If strong and fair you wish to be, White flowers on the first of May, Surround the pole on this sacred day. The Spindle wood for making thread, Don’t eat the berries, or you’ll be dead, Craft your arrow straight and true, For needles fine, this wood will do. The Apples grow on Avalon’s Isle, From Iduna’s hand, the Norse gods smile, Gold upon a silver bough, Music that would sleep allow. The Holly king his crown does wear, Spiky leaves your skin will tear, Never eat the berries red, The Holly wand sees spirits fled.
Battle of the Trees – Part 1
By Daniel Kelly – 2020
These are the trees, chieftains eight, Their stories I will now relate, Worshiped by the Celts of old, Stories in the Ogham told. Venice on the Alder stands, The mighty tree of ancient Bran, By the lake or river side, Its flute will call the wind to ride. The Oak made Arthur’s table round, As above are the roots down in the ground, The wood that makes the strongest door, The greens man’s face it covers o’er. Nine Hazel trees of wisdom grow, By Holy Well that lets you know, Its wand is good to heal your ills, Set Brigid’s wood on window sill. The Blackberry bush holds sweet surprise, But thorns will cut your arms and thighs, Chew the leaves for gums that bleed, Leave some berries for the fairies feed. The Ivy lives in coldest ice, Cut it down, it grows back twice, Great Bacchus wore the ivy wreath, From liquor’s snare it brings relief. The Blackthorn makes a sturdy stick, Its thorn will give a nasty prick, Beware of the Lunantisidhe, If you cut the wood near samhain’s day. I sing now of the bonny Broom, Its brilliant yellow dispels doom, As hedge it keeps the fairies out, Its flowers made the Vikings stout. The Heather in the summer blooms, When burned with fern the thunder looms, Of passion of the flesh it speaks, And consequence in 40 weeks.
Four Treasures
By Daniel Kelly – 2020
G D
I held the spear of Lugh in my hand,
D C
tipped with white lighting
G D
That no rival can stand,
Em C
The courage of kings,
C G
Returning it sings,
G D
A Yew of the forest
I have stood, by destiny’s stone,
ringing with power,
And magic unknown,
The ruler of men,
It will choose once again,
Now is the hour
D C G D
Four treasures given to me,
From the land across the Sea,
Em C
Spades for courage,
G D
Diamonds for Power,
C G
Clubs of Knowledge
Em D
And the Pleasuring heart.
Nuada, of the silver hand,
sword flaming brightly,
With the knowledge of man,
Severs the night,
Revealing the right,
An Claíomh Solais
The Dagda knows pleasure divine,
on lips and on tongue,
In the Cauldron of life,
To be satisfied,
To bring dead alive,
In the womb of the world,
The Fool
by Daniel Kelly – 2020
Am C G Am In this bleak and un-bending life, C G Am We wallow in sadness and strife, G Am Always seeking more, C G Am Worries at our door, G Am And the grief pierces like a knife, Wear for me your glee man’s clothes, The earth skips before your toes, With a bawdy rhyme, Or a sweet bell’s chime, Yours is the mind that knows. C G Am I search for the heart of a fool C G Am A shield from the world so cruel, To laugh and to sing, At the slightest thing, Praise ye the lord of misrule. There is nothing but bad news, Whatever you gamble you lose, With each failed try, A tear from your eye, You reach out to light the fuse From the darkness you hear a song, Filled with a mirth so strong, Like a good strong wine, Or a beauty divine, A cure for all that’s wrong Chorus There are some that call him mad, The folly of being so glad, Innocent and free, That’s the life for me, When a child’s eyes you’ve had So thanks to the makers of merry, Dressed in vine, bud, blossom and berry, Seeking out the joke, In a worlds that’s broke, I will ride the mad mans ferry,
The Fairy Blade
By Daniel Kelly – 2020
G C G A young girl lived with her brothers three, Am G D G A hey down down and a derry oh, G C G Each day they went a hunting free, C G D G While she cut turf by the rowan tree She cut the turf from break of day Upon the fairy hill so gay, With a blunt old knife she toiled away. The fairy prince he heard her cry, Gave his magic blade for her to try, With enchanted blade her work flew by. Her mother asked her brothers three, Find why you sister seems so free, And bring the secret home to me. In the heather did her brothers hide, And the secret blade they then espied, As they wrenched the blade from her she cried. Where the prince reached hand out from the hill, The fey blade slashed with evil will, From severed hand his blood did spill. Woe to my brothers cruel and mean, And curse my mother to the fire green, Alas my prince no more was seen.
Winter Solstice
by Daniel Kelly
C G D G The days have been cold, with a frost on the field, Am Em D The sun it dips low in the sky, C G D G The king of the Holly, his reign has been long, C D But he’s aging and ready to die. G C G On the longest night of the year, C G D We will fill the darkness with cheer, G C D G Our praise to the sun, his slumber is done, Em D(C) G He rises again from the night. We will kindle the fire, burn the Yule log again, Cherish the trees ever green, Our memory of summer, dreams of the spring, Look to the oak child of the queen, Share a kiss under, the mistletoe bough, Feast the return of the light, Our new king is rising, his power awakes, Upwards again on his flight.