Avalon Revisited

Love's Secret

2012-02-14T03:03:00.000-08:00

Never seek to tell thy love,

Love that never told can be;

For the gentle wind does move

Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,

I told her all my heart;

Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,

Ah! she did depart!

Soon as she was gone from me,

A traveler came by,

Silently, invisibly

He took her with a sigh.

William Blake

Wishing you all a Valentine's Day filled with love.

Morgan Le Fay done

2012-02-13T05:54:00.000-08:00

The Celtic goddess Morgan Le Fay plays an important part in the legends of King Arthur. Her name means 'Morgan the Fairy'. She is commonly remembered as the enchantress who is the half human, half fairy sister of King Arthur. She was as powerful as she was beautiful. The root of Her name is 'mor', meaning 'sea', and one theory suggests that she was an ancient sea goddess. Morgan is the ruler of the Celtic paradise, Avalon, and it is there that Her origins are hidden in the mists, that mysterious veil between the Celtic Otherworld and the mortal realm.

Although Morgan le Fay is at times portrayed as a beneficent individual, she is a powerful sorceress who is often malevolent to Arthur and Queen Guinevere in Arthurian legend. She studies magic and becomes proficient in the dark and destructive arts. Poisoned by jealousy, she determines to destroy her half brother, the king, and at his death she remains one of the few enemies he has failed to conquer.

To Morgan Le Fay

Nymph of undying Song! thy stainless brow,
With lilies and the mystic vervain crowned,
And tresses floating in the blast unbound,

Where in these days inglorious lingerest thou?

Still are thy wonted haunts;the winds which sweep

Thy bowers, are tuneless; and thy once-loved waves

Bring back no music from that sullen deep,

Nor voice of laughter from those hidden caves.

Alas! with us the power of Fancy's spell,

Crushed by the hand of sterner Truth, is o'er;

Of knight and fay our strains have ceased to tell,

And hosts Armoric, ranged by Severn's shore;

And hymns from tongues aerial rise no more

Within the fabled hold of Tintagel.

By J. F. Hollings

Under the Moon

2012-02-10T08:55:00.000-08:00

I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,

Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,

Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;

Nor Uladh, when Naoise had thrown a sail upon the wind;

Nor lands that seem too dim to be burdens on the heart:

Land-under-Wave, where out of the moon's light and the sun's

Seven old sisters wind the threads of the long-lived ones,

Land-of-the-Tower, where Aengus has thrown the gates apart,

And Wood-of-Wonders, where one kills an ox at dawn,

To find it when night falls laid on a golden bier.

Therein are many queens like Branwen and Guinevere;

And Niamh and Laban and Fand, who could change to an otter or fawn,

And the wood-woman, whose lover was changed to a blue-eyed hawk;

And whether I go in my dreams by woodland, or dun, or shore,

Or on the unpeopled waves with kings to pull at the oar,

I hear the harp-string praise them, or hear their mournful talk.

Because of something told under the famished horn

Of the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,

To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dis may,

Even in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.

William Butler Yeats

Coventina

2012-02-08T04:50:00.000-08:00

The Celts had a great sense of the sacredness of places, particularly woods, groves, rivers, and springs, and deities were present in the world around them. Different gods controlled all aspects of life on Earth and worshiped their gods in forests by springs, rivers, and lakes, or at shrines and in sanctuaries. Water was especially vital, and there were specific springs, lakes, rivers, and bogs that were considered sacred.

Coventina (she of the covens) was a Celtic water goddess who oversaw the sprites and water nymphs. She ruled over all forms of water, including lakes, rivers, streams, ponds, oceans, and rain. Her followers tossed coins and sacred objects into wells as an offering for her blessings. Coventina was perhaps the most important water goddess from northern Britain whose cult, like that of Sulis, was concentrated at one particular site, Carrawburgh, on Hadrian's Wall.

The wall was built by the Romans to defend against tribal raids from the north, following a visit by the emperor Hadrian in 122AD. Coventina's sacred spring still rises outside the earth fort on Hadrian's Wall. When excavated Coventina's Well was found to hold the most enormous hoard of offerings. It contained pins, more than 14.000 coins, glass, ornaments, pottery, a bronze dog and horse and a human skull. It also contained several large altars, some dedicated to the goddess Coventina herself.

In later times, these Roman and Celtic wells dedicated to the goddess Coventina were converted into wishing wells.

A Roar Through The Tall Twin Elm Trees

2012-02-06T07:01:00.000-08:00

A roar thro' the tall twin elm trees

The mustering storm betrayed:

The South-wind seized the willow

That over the water swayed.

Then fell the steady deluge

In which I strove to doze,

Hearing all night at my window

The knock of the winter rose.

The rainy rose of winter!

An outcast it must pine.

And from thy bosom outcast

Am I, dear lady mine.

-George Meredith-

(English novelist and poet of the Victorian era)

A Dream Of England

2012-02-03T03:06:00.000-08:00

I had a dream of England. Wild and weird,

The billows ravened round her, and the wrack,

Darkening and dwindling, blotted out the track,

Then flashed on her a bolt that scorched and seared.

She, writhing in her ruin, rolled, and reared,

Then headlonged unto doom, that drove her back

To welter on the waters, blind and black,

A homeless hulk, a derelict unsteered.

Wailing I woke, and through the dawn descried,

Throned on the waves that threatened to o'erwhelm,

The England of my dream resplendent ride,

And armoured Wisdom, sovran at the helm,

Through foaming furrows of the future guide

To wider empire a majestic Realm.

Alfred Austin

Candlemas February 2nd

2012-02-02T05:08:00.000-08:00

In the Christian calendar, February 2nd is Candlemas Day, forty days after Christmas. In pre-Christian times, this day was known as the 'Feast of Lights' or 'Imbolc' and celebrated the increase strength of the life-giving sun as Winter gave way to Spring. It was one of the two great annual festivals of the pre-Christian fertility religion. By the end of the Middle Ages,the merging of pre-Christian and Christian traditions on this date began to emerge as a celebration in England.

In early Christian times, this date was known as the 'Feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary' or the 'Feast of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple.' Later, in pre-Reformation England , its name was changed to 'Candlemas', and it became a traditional Christian festival that commemorates the ritual purification of Mary forty days after the birth of her son Jesus. In Christianity, Candlemas is the feast of the presentation of Christ at the temple; in other words Christ, the light of the world, is formally presented to the world as eternal light, just as Imbolc was seen as the promise of the eternal light coming forth.

Candlemas comes from the tradition of blessing candles and distributing them to the people 'in the dark of winter'. A lighted candle would then placed in each window of the home. It is important to remember how important candles were in those days when there were no other forms of lighting; hence, this was an important celebration for the early Christians who found themselves liberated from the absolute darkness of night.

(Of course, the candles associated with this holiday also serve as reminders of the ancient use of fire in Pagan worship).

Candlemas Traditions

2012-01-31T03:05:00.000-08:00

In pre-Christian times, Candlemas was a festival of light as that marked the midpoint of Winter, the day itself falling halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox when the days began to get brighter. Candlemas has been for centuries a popular day for weather prognostications and since many early peoples believed that animals had the ability to forecast the weather they therefore looked for portents to tell if spring would be early or late, the badger became the Candlemas forecaster in England. Every year farmers would watch for the animal leaving its burrow. The weather on Candlemas Day is often thought to be a pointer for the rest of the year, and there was a superstition that if the weather was fair on that day, the second half of winter would be stormy and cold. A traditional rhyme goes thus:

“If Candlemas Day be fair and bright

Winter will have another fight

If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain

Winter won’t come again.”

Therefore bad weather on Candlemas Day was a good sign, as it meant that Winter had breathed its last gasp and spring was on her way. Other old proverbs connected with Candlemas Day are:

As far as the sun shines in on Candlemas Day,

So far will the snow blow in afore old May."

" The farmer should have, on Candlemas Day,
Half his stover (winter forage), and half his hay."

" You should on Candlemas Day,
Throw candle and candlestick away."
(Meaning daylight should be sufficient by that time)

" When Candlemas Day is come and gone,

The snow won't lay on a hot stone."

Candlemas teas are given where the only lights are candles, and as many of these are used as possible. Candlemas cakes are served; these are small, round cakes with a little lighted candle in the center of each. The owner of the cake whose light burns longest will, in accordance with old tradition, be the most fortunate of the company during the coming year.

Sometimes an indoors procession is organized bearing lighted candles, and passing from room to room of the house to drive the shadows out, that misfortune may not enter before the next Candlemas.

Little boats are made of the shells of walnuts. and a tiny candle an inch long is stuck upright in each. These little fairy vessels are then floated in a large tub of water, the fortunes of each symbolizing those of the person who launched it.

If the little craft is shipwrecked, he will meet disaster;

if it floats far, he will travel;

if it stays in one spot, he will live tranquilly at home;

if it meets another boat, joins it, and the two drift in company, it means marriage;

if the light burns steadily, it means health and prosperity:

if it wavers, flares and flickers, it indicates varyinghealth and fortune.

The light that burns longest represents the longest life.

But above all, at any Candelmas festival there should be plenty of candles, not because the effect of the illumination is extremely pretty, but also because another old verse—which should be inscribed in red letters on a strip of paper round about the candle cakes—declares it advisable for happiness:

So many ye candles at Candlemas yet shine

From Candlemas the Candlemas, so many joys be thine.

Ceremonies for Candlemas Eve

2012-01-30T03:53:00.000-08:00

Down with the rosemary and bays,

Down with the misletoe ;

Instead of holly, now up-raise

The greener box (for show).

The holly hitherto did sway ;

Let box now domineer

Until the dancing Easter day,

Or Easter's eve appear.

Then youthful box which now hath grace

Your houses to renew ;

Grown old, surrender must his place

Unto the crisped yew.

When yew is out, then birch comes in,

And many flowers beside ;

Both of a fresh and fragrant kin

To honour Whitsuntide.

Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,

With cooler oaken boughs,

Come in for comely ornaments

To re-adorn the house.

Thus times do shift ; each thing his turn does hold ;

New things succeed, as former things grow old.

by Robert Herrick

The Homes Of England

2012-01-27T03:02:00.000-08:00

The stately homes of England

How beautiful they stand!

Amidst their tall ancestral trees,

O'er all the pleasant land!

The deer across their green sward bound

Through shade and sunny gleam,

And the swan glides past them with the sound

Of some rejoicing stream.

The merry homes of England!

Around their hearths by night,

What gladsome looks of household love

Meet in the ruddy light!

There woman's voice flows forth in song,

Or childhood's tale is told;

Or lips move tunefully along

Some glorious page of old.

The cottage homes of England!

By thousands on her plains,

They are smiling o'er the silv'ry brook,

And round the hamlet-fanes;

Through glowing orchards forth they peep,

Each from its nook of leaves;

And fearless there the lowly sleep,

As the bird beneath their eaves.

The free fair homes of England!

Long, long in hut and hall

May hearts of native proof be rear'd

To guard each hallow'd wall.

And green for ever be the groves,

And bright the flow'ry sod,

Where first the child's glad spirit loves

Its country and its God.

Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Rowan Lore

2012-01-25T05:14:00.000-08:00

The Celts associated the Rowan with protection, and it is considered a magical tree by many. The Rowan tree, sometimes referred to as the 'Lady of the Mountain', is a deeply protective tree and often used for warding purposes against magical attack and enchantments. It represents youthfulness and the female aspect. In many stories Rowan is sacred to goddesses of youth and has long associations with the Maiden aspect of the Triple Goddess such as the Irish Brigid or the English Brigantia, both goddesses associated with potential life and fertility and the promise of spring at this time of year. Magically it has the power to rejuvenate.

Rowan berries and bark bring good luck, and all parts of the tree are said to promote spiritual and physical healing. Traditionally, the Rowan protects and wards of evil. In Scottish lore, the Rowan tree has been held as a 'Tree of Life', a protector from harm. The Rowan has protected homes for centuries. A sprig of the tree can be put near the door of your home or you might even choose to wear a sprig for protection. In England, a Rowan tree planted by the front door or attached to cattle sheds wards off evil. In Newfoundland, Rowan is planted by the crops.

Rowan berries hold a sacred symbol, a perfect five-pointed star on the bottom reminiscent of the pentagram. This star is why the tree was considered to protect from enchantment and magic. In Scotland, Highland women wore necklaces of red coral or red rowan-berries, strung on red thread, were worn as amulets.

Celtic Tree Calendar--The Rowan

2012-01-23T03:02:00.000-08:00

January 21-February 17

Each of the thirteen months in the Druids' lunar calendar was represented by a sacred tree with a traditional symbolic significance. This month, the tree is the rowan tree, a hardy little tree which produces a large number of berries in autumn. The rowan tree is often called the mountain ash because the beautiful smooth barked tree grows at high altitudes and varieties of it can be found in the mountains, although it is no relation to the ash. The leaves appear a dark green color on the top and paler underneath. The rather unpleasant smelling flowers are a delicate shade of pink which turn white when the expand in the sunshine. Eventually they turn into blood red berries.

The showy red berries of the rowan tree contain a high concentration of vitamin A and C which boost the immune system; hence, the berries have been used to make general tonics for the body since the ripe berries are mildly purgative and diuretic. Fresh rowan berry juice is usable as a laxative, gargle for sore throats, inflamed tonsils, and hoarseness. Rowan berry jam will remedy diarrhea. They provide a favorite food for wild birds. The bark as well has been employed for several medicinal purposes such as an astringent for loose bowels and vaginal irritations.

The wood of the Rowan is tough, strong and fine grained. As a result, it was often used for the making of tool handles, spinning wheels, spindles, and walking sticks. Its forked branches made excellent metal diviners, and the wood was also used in carvings.

Oh! Rowan Tree, Oh! Rowan Tree, thou'lt aye be

dear to me,

Intwin'd thou art wi' mony ties o' hame and infancy.

Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring, thy flow'rs the

simmer's pride;

There was nae sic a bonny tree, in a' the countrie side.

Oh! Rowan Tree.

How fair wert thou in simmer time, wi' a' thy clusters white,

How rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi' berries red

and bright!

On thy fair stem were mony names, which now nae

mair I see,

But they're engraven on my heart—forgot they ne'er

can be!

Oh! Rowan Tree.

We sat aneath thy spreading shade, the bairnies round

thee ran,

They pu'd thy bonny berries red, and necklaces they

strang;

My mother! oh! I see her still, she smiled our sports

to see,

Wi' little Jeanie on her lap, an' Jamie at her knee!

Oh! Rowan Tree.

Oh! there arose my father's prayer, in holy evening's

calm,

How sweet was then my mother's voice, in the Martyr's

psalm!

Now a' are gane! we meet nae mair aneath the

Rowan Tree;

But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o' hame and infancy.

Oh! Rowan Tree.

Caroline Baroness Nairne

(August 16, 1766 – October 26, 1845),

Scottish songwriter,

St. Agnes' Eve: January 20th

2012-01-20T03:05:00.000-08:00

In old Christian calendars, this is St. Agnes' Eve, which replaces an earlier British Celtic feast as the day on which prophecy and divination are favored. It is said that a young woman who correctly bakes a "dumb cake" - so called because it is prepared in strict silence - will be able to see the dream image of her future husband. This custom is the subject of a famous poem by Keats, "The Eve of St. Agnes".

St Agnes' Eve---Ah, bitter chill it was!

The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;

The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,

And silent was the flock in woolly fold:

Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told

His rosary, and while his frosted breath,

Like pious incense from a censer old,

Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death,

Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.

His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man;

Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees,

And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan,

Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees:

The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem to freeze,

Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails:

Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries,

He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails

To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.

Northward he turneth through a little door,

And scarce three steps, ere Music's golden tongue

Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor;

But no---already had his deathbell rung

The joys of all his life were said and sung:

His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve:

Another way he went, and soon among

Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve,

And all night kept awake, for sinners' sake to grieve.

That ancient Beadsman heard the prelude soft;

And so it chanc'd, for many a door was wide,

From hurry to and fro. Soon, up aloft,

The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide:

The level chambers, ready with their pride,

Were glowing to receive a thousand guests:

The carved angels, ever eager-eyed,

Star'd, where upon their heads the cornice rests,

With hair blown back, and wings put cross-wise on their breasts.

At length burst in the argent revelry,

With plume, tiara, and all rich array,

Numerous as shadows haunting fairily

The brain, new-stuff'd, in youth, with triumphs gay

Of old romance. These let us wish away,

And turn, sole-thoughted, to one lady there,

Whose heart had brooded, all that wintry day,

On love, and wing'd St Agnes' saintly care,

As she had heard old dames full rnany times declare.

They told her how, upon St Agnes' Eve,

Young virgins might have visions of delight,

And soft adorings from their loves receive

Upon the honey'd middle of the night,

If ceremonies due they did aright;

As, supperless to bed they must retire,

And couch supine their beauties, lily white;

Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require

Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.

Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline:

The music, yearning like a God in pain,

She scarcely heard: her maiden eyes divine,

Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train

Pass by---she heeded not at all: in vain

Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier,

And back retir'd; not cool'd by high disdain,

But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere;

She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the year.

She danc'd along with vague, regardless eyes,

Anxious her lips, her breathing quick and short:

The hallow'd hour was near at hand: she sighs

Amid the timbrels, and the throng'd resort

Of whisperers in anger, or in sport;

'Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn,

Hoodwink'd with faery fancy; all amort,

Save to St Agnes and her lambs unshorn,

And all the bliss to be before to-morrow morn.

So, purposing each moment to retire,

She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors,

Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire

For Madeline. Beside the portal doors,

Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores

All saints to give him sight of Madeline,

But for one moment in the tedious hours,

That he might gaze and worship all unseen;

Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss---in sooth such things have been.

He ventures in: let no buzz'd whisper tell:

All eyes be muffled, or a hundred swords

Will storm his heart, Love's fev'rous citadel:

For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes,

Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords,

Whose very dogs would execrations howl

Against his lineage: not one breast affords

Him any mercy, in that mansion foul,

Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul.

Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came,

Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand,

To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame,

Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond

The sound of merriment and chorus bland.

He startled her; but soon she knew his face,

And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand,

Saying, "Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from this place;

"They are all here to-night, the whole blood-thirsty race!

"Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish Hildebrand;

He had a fever late, and in the fit

He cursed thee and thine, both house and land:

Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit

More tame for his gray hairs---Alas me! flit!

Flit like a ghost away."---"Ah, gossip dear,

We're safe enough; here in this arm-chair sit,

And tell me how"---"Good saints! not here, not here;

Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy bier."

He follow'd through a lowly arched way,

Brushing the cobwebs with his lofty plume,

And as she mutter'd "Well-a---well-a-day!"

He found him in a little moonlight room,

Pale, lattic'd, chill, and silent as a tomb.

"Now tell me where is Madeline", said he,

"O tell me, Angela, by the holy loom

Which none but secret sisterhood may see,

"When they St Agnes' wool are weaving piously."

"St Agnes! Ah! it is St Agnes' Eve---

Yet men will murder upon holy days:

Thou must hold water in a witch's sieve,

And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays

To venture so: it fills me with amaze

To see thee, Porphyro!---St Agnes' Eve!

God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays

This very night: good angels her deceive!

But let me laugh awhile, I've mickle time to grieve."

Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon,

While Porphyro upon her face doth look,

Like puzzled urchin on an aged crone

Who keepeth clos'd a wondrous riddle-book,

As spectacled she sits in chimney nook.

But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told

His lady's purpose; and he scarce could brook

Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold

And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.

Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,

Flushing his brow, and in his pained heart

Made purple riot: then doth he propose

A stratagem, that makes the beldame start:

"A cruel man and impious thou art:

Sweet lady, let her pray, and sleep, and dream

Alone with her good angels, far apart

From wicked men like thee. Go, go!---I deem

Thou canst not surely be the same that thou didst seem."

"I will not harm her, by all saints I swear,"

Quoth Porphyro: "O may I ne'er find grace

When my weak voice shall whisper its last prayer,

If one of her soft ringlets I displace,

Or look with ruffian passion in her face:

Good Angela, believe me by these tears;

Or I will, even in a moment's space,

Awake, with horrid shout, my foemen's ears,

And beard them, though they be more fang'd than wolves and bears."

"Ah! why wilt thou affright a feeble soul?

A poor, weak, palsy-stricken, churchyard thing,

Whose passing-bell may ere the midnight toll;

Whose prayers for thee, each morn and evening,

Were never miss'd." Thus plaining, doth she bring

A gentler speech from burning Porphyro;

So woeful, and of such deep sorrowing,

That Angela gives promise she will do

Whatever he shall wish, betide her weal or woe.

Which was, to lead him, in close secrecy,

Even to Madeline's chamber, and there hide

Him in a closet, of such privacy

That he might see her beauty unespied,

And win perhaps that night a peerless bride,

While legion'd fairies pac'd the coverlet,

And pale enchantment held her sleepy-eyed.

Never on such a night have lovers met,

Since Merlin paid his Demon all the monstrous debt.

"It shall be as thou wishest," said the Dame:

"All cates and dainties shall be stored there

Quickly on this feast-night: by the tambour frame

Her own lute thou wilt see: no time to spare,

For I am slow and feeble, and scarce dare

On such a catering trust my dizzy head.

Wait here, my child, with patience; kneel in prayer

The while: Ah! thou must needs the lady wed,

Or may I never leave my grave among the dead."

So saying, she hobbled off with busy fear.

The lover's endless minutes slowly pass'd;

The Dame return'd, and whisper'd in his ear

To follow her; with aged eyes aghast

From fright of dim espial. Safe at last

Through many a dusky gallery, they gain

The maiden's chamber, silken, hush'd and chaste;

Where Porphyro took covert, pleas'd amain.

His poor guide hurried back with agues in her brain.

Her falt'ring hand upon the balustrade,

Old Angela was feeling for the stair,

When Madeline, St Agnes' charmed maid,

Rose, like a mission'd spirit, unaware:

With silver taper's light, and pious care,

She turn'd, and down the aged gossip led

To a safe level matting. Now prepare,

Young Porphyro, for gazing on that bed;

She comes, she comes again, like dove fray'd and fled.

Out went the taper as she hurried in;

Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died:

She closed the door, she panted, all akin

To spirits of the air, and visions wide:

No utter'd syllable, or, woe betide!

But to her heart, her heart was voluble,

Paining with eloquence her balmy side;

As though a tongueless nightingale should swell

Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.

A casement high and triple-arch'd there was,

All garlanded with carven imag'ries

Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass,

And diamonded with panes of quaint device,

Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes,

As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings;

And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries,

And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings,

A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.

Full on this casement shone the wintry moon,

And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast,

As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon;

Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest,

And on her silver cross soft amethyst,

And on her hair a glory, like a saint:

She seem'd a splendid angel, newly drest,

Save wings, for heaven:---Porphyro grew faint:

She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.

Anon his heart revives: her vespers done,

Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees;

Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one;

Loosens her fragrant bodice; by degrees

Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees:

Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed,

Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees,

In fancy, fair St Agnes in her bed,

But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.

Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest,

In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex'd she lay,

Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd

Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away;

Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day;

Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain;

Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray;

Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain,

As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.

Stol'n to this paradise, and so entranced,

Porphyro gazed upon her empty dress,

And listen'd to her breathing, if it chanced

To wake into a slumbrous tenderness;

Which when he heard, that minute did he bless,

And breath'd himself: then from the closet crept,

Noiseless as fear in a wide wilderness,

And over the hush'd carpet, silent, stept,

And 'tween the curtains peep'd, where, lo!---how fast she slept!

Then by the bed-side, where the faded moon

Made a dim, silver twilight, soft he set

A table, and, half anguish'd, threw thereon

A doth of woven crimson, gold, and jet:---

O for some drowsy Morphean amulet!

The boisterous, midnight, festive clarion,

The kettle-drum, and far-heard clarinet,

Affray his ears, though but in dying tone:---

The hall door shuts again, and all the noise is gone.

And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,

In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender'd,

While he from forth the closet brought a heap

Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd

With jellies soother than the creamy curd,

And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;

Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd

From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,

From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.

These delicates he heap'd with glowing hand

On golden dishes and in baskets bright

Of wreathed silver: sumptuous they stand

In the retired quiet of the night,

Filling the chilly room with perfume light.---

"And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake!

Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite:

Open thine eyes, for meek St Agnes' sake,

Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache."

Thus whispering, his warm, unnerved arm

Sank in her pillow. Shaded was her dream

By the dusk curtains:---'twas a midnight charm

Impossible to melt as iced stream:

The lustrous salvers in the moonlight gleam;

Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies:

It seem'd he never, never could redeem

From such a stedfast spell his lady's eyes;

So mus'd awhile, entoil'd in woofed phantasies.

Awakening up, he took her hollow lute,---

Tumultuous,---and, in chords that tenderest be,

He play'd an ancient ditty, long since mute,

In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans mercy:"

Close to her ear touching the melody:---

Wherewith disturb'd, she utter'd a soft moan:

He ceased---she panted quick---and suddenly

Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone:

Upon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stone.

Her eyes were open, but she still beheld,

Now wide awake, the vision of her sleep:

There was a painful change, that nigh expell'd

The blisses of her dream so pure and deep,

At which fair Madeline began to weep,

And moan forth witless words with many a sigh;

While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep;

Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye,

Fearing to move or speak, she look'd so dreamingly.

"Ah, Porphyro!" said she, "but even now

Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear,

Made tuneable with every sweetest vow;

And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear:

How chang'd thou art! how pallid, chill, and drear!

Give me that voice again, my Porphyro,

Those looks immortal, those complainings dear!

Oh leave me not in this eternal woe,

For if thou diest, my Love, I know not where to go."

Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far

At these voluptuous accents, he arose,

Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star

Seen mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose

Into her dream he melted, as the rose

Blendeth its odour with the violet,---

Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows

Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet

Against the window-panes; St Agnes' moon hath set.

Tis dark: quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet:

"This is no dream, my bride, my Madeline!"

'Tis dark: the iced gusts still rave and beat:

"No dream, alas! alas! and woe is mine!

Porphyro will leave me here to fade and pine.---

Cruel! what traitor could thee hither bring?

I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine

Though thou forsakest a deceived thing;---

A dove forlorn and lost with sick unpruned wing."

"My Madeline! sweet dreamer! lovely bride!

Say, may I be for aye thy vassal blest?

Thy beauty's shield, heart-shap'd and vermeil dyed?

Ah, silver shrine, here will I take my rest

After so many hours of toil and quest,

A famish'd pilgrim,---saved by miracle.

Though I have found, I will not rob thy nest

Saving of thy sweet self; if thou think'st well

To trust, fair Madeline, to no rude infidel.

"Hark! 'tis an elfin-storm from faery land,

Of haggard seeming, but a boon indeed:

Arise---arise! the morning is at hand;---

The bloated wassailers will never heed:---

Let us away, my love, with happy speed;

There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see,---

Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead:

Awake! arise! my love, and fearless be,

For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee."

She hurried at his words, beset with fears,

For there were sleeping dragons all around,

At glaring watch, perhaps, with ready spears---

Down the wide stairs a darkling way they found.---

In all the house was heard no human sound.

A chain-droop'd lamp was flickering by each door;

The arras, rich with horseman, hawk, and hound,

Flutter'd in the besieging wind's uproar;

And the long carpets rose along the gusty floor.

They glide, like phantoms, into the wide hall;

Like phantoms, to the iron porch, they glide;

Where lay the Porter, in uneasy sprawl,

With a huge empty flagon by his side:

The wakeful bloodhound rose, and shook his hide,

But his sagacious eye an inmate owns:

By one, and one, the bolts fill easy slide:---

The chains lie silent on the footworn stones,---

The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans.

And they are gone: ay, ages long ago

These lovers fled away into the storm.

That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe,

And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form

Of witch, and demon, and large coffin-worm,

Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old

Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform;

The Beadsman, after thousand aves told,

For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.

John Keats

Fate of Capua

2012-01-19T05:40:00.000-08:00

And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know,

Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day

Would wear away,

Till the smooth temper of my age should be
Like the high leaves upon the holly-tree.

And as when all the summer trees are seen

So bright and green,
The holly leaves a sober hue display

Less bright than they;

But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
What then so cheerful as the holly-tree?

So serious should my youth appear among

The thoughtless throng;
So would I seem among the young and gay

More grave than they;

That in my age as cheerful I might be

As the green winter of the holly-tree.

--Thomas Southerne--

In the Valley of the Elwy

2012-01-16T07:01:00.000-08:00

I remember a house where all were good

To me, God knows, deserving no such thing:

Comforting smell breathed at very entering,

Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood.

That cordial air made those kind people a hood

All over, as a bevy of eggs the mothering wing

Will, or mild nights the new morsels of spring:

Why, it seemed of course; seemed of right it should.

Lovely the woods, waters, meadows, combes, vales,

All the air things wear that build this world of Wales;

Only the inmate does not correspond:

God, lover of souls, swaying considerate scales,

Complete thy creature dear O where it fails,

Being mighty a master, being a father and fond.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Near Avalon

2012-01-13T03:13:00.000-08:00

A ship with shields before the sun,

Six maidens round the mast,

A red-gold crown on every one,

A green gown on the last.

The fluttering green banners there

Are wrought with ladies' heads most fair,

And a portraiture of Guenevere

The middle of each sail doth bear.

A ship with sails before the wind,

And round the helm six knights,

Their heaumes are on, whereby, half blind,

They pass by many sights.

The tatter'd scarlet banners there

Right soon will leave the spear-heads bare.

Those six knights sorrowfully bear

In all their heaumes some yellow hair.

William Morris

Guinevere

2012-01-11T05:02:00.000-08:00

Guinevere is best known as the Queen and wife of King Arthur but she is also a goddess. Her name means 'white waves'. Also known as Gwenhywfar, she is the goddess of dawn and spring as well as an ancient form of the Welsh triple goddess who made her way into the Arthurian legends, and embodiment of the land, fertility, and sovereignty. In her role as the flower maiden, Guinevere brings fertility to the earth in order for the trees to bear fruit and vegetation can grow. As a mother goddess, she overlooks her court and brings inspiration to mortals, and, in her role as Crone, her actions brought down the round table. It is also sometimes said that these three roles are actually three different Guineveres who all married King Arthur at some point.

How shall I bid you good--bye,

Dear, without tears?

Only once in the years,

The idle vanishing years,

We met, with Eternity standing by,

And loved, a little forgotten space,

I for the sake of your beautiful face,

You I hardly know how or why,

Or whether you loved me indeed, alas,

With Eternity standing by.

We played our comedy parts,

Scene after scene.

You were to be my queen,

My dear sweet comedy queen,

I your lover and knave of hearts

Who kissed your hand in the make--believe

And looked for the bee in your royal sleeve,

And stopped, because of the pain that smarts,

The pangs that soften, the sighs that grieve,

And the rest of the tragic parts.

We did not know that we loved,

Not at the first of it.

That, ah that was the worst of it,

The aching sorrowful worst of it,

Not till I saw that your soul was moved

At the sound of my voice, as in tears I read

Of Guinevere and the days long dead,

And the knights and ladies who lived and loved

And went to their graves and were harvested.

Then, ah then, it was proved.

So I dare not bid you good--bye,

Dear, without tears.

Things there are in the years,

The coming ominous years,

All too sad for us not to cry.

Other joys shall forgotten be,

But not the pilgrimage made with me,

The Severn's flood and the angry sky,

And the love we talked of, which could not be

With Eternity standing by.

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

The Wandering Bard

2012-01-09T03:09:00.000-08:00

What life like that of the bard can be --

The wandering bard, who roams as free

As the mountain lark that o'er him sings,

And, like that lark a music brings,

Within him, where'er he comes or goes --

A fount that for ever flows!

The world's to him like some playground,

Where fairies dance their moonlight round; --

It dimm'd the turf where late they trod;

The elves but seek some greener sod;

So, when less bright his scene of glee,

To another away flies he!

Oh, what would have been young Beauty's doom

Without a bard to fix her bloom?

They tell us, in the moon's bright round,

Things lost in this dark world are found;

So charms, on earth long pass'd and gone,

In the poet's lay live on. --

Would you have smiles that ne'er grow dim?

You've only to give them all to him,

Who, with but a touch of Fancy's wand,

Can lend them life, this life beyond.

And fix them high, in Poesy's sky --

Young stars that never die!

Then welcome the bard where'er he comes,

For, though he hath countless airy homes,

To which his wing excursive roves,

Yet still, from time to time, he loves

To light upon earth and find such cheer

As brightens our banquet here.

No matter how far, how fleet he flies,

You've only to light up kind young eyes,

Such signal-fires as here are given--

And down he'll drop from Fancy's heaven,

The minute such call to love or mirth

Proclaim's he's wanting on the earth!

Thomas Moore

Feast of the Epiphany January 6

2012-01-06T05:38:00.000-08:00

Twelfth Night, January 6th , the Feast of the Epiphany , was the traditional date for the Old Christmas Day. Epiphany is the official end of the Christmas season in the Western Church and is traditionally the day when people put away their Christmas decorations, including holly and mistletoe. Long ago it was thought that leaving the decorations up was bad luck. It was believed that there were tree spirits living in the greenery which was used to decorate their houses. Once the Christmas season was over, it was necessary to return the greenery back outside to release the spirits into the countryside once again. Failure to do this would mean that vegetation would not be able to start growing again because Spring would not return.

Also known as Three Kings Day this Feast is a great and very important. According to an old legend based on a Bible story, Epiphany is the date on which Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar, who are variously referred to as The Three Kings, Three Wise Men or Magi saw, on the night when Christ was born, a bright star, followed it to Bethlehem and found there the Christ child and presented it with gold, frankincense and myrrh. Gold symbolized kingship, frankincense depicted godliness, and myrrrh represented a painful death. In return, charity and spiritual riches would be offered for the gold, faith for incense, and truth and meekness for the present of myrrh.

The Wise Men returned home and, in 7 A.D., Saint Thomas discovered the Kings in India and baptized them. They are said to have become martyrs and their bodies buried within the walls of Jerusalem. It is believed the remains were later moved to Turkey by the Emperor Constaine's mother and, later still, to Milan until they were finally laid to rest in Cologne.

Twelfth Night, January 5

2012-01-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

Twelfth Night is based on an old custom of observing sunset as the start of a new day. It is final night of the Christmas season. In some traditions, it is taken to mean the evening of the 12th day itself, January 6th. In Tudor England, the Twelfth Night marked the end of an autumn/winter festival that started on All Hallows Eve. It heralds the end of Christmas and is observed as a time of merrymaking.

In English villages, at the beginning of the twelfth night festival, a cake that contained a bean was eaten. The person who found the bean would be appointed the King or Lord of Misrule and would run the Christmas festivities. Midnight signaled the end of his rule and the world would return to normal.

Food and drink have long been a focal point of Twelfth Night celebrations. Traditional Twelfth Night foods served in England include anything spicy or hot, like ginger snaps and spiced ale. In the past, wassailing was generally most associated with Twelfth Night Eve and Twelfth Night celebrations.

Twelfth Night

or King and Queen

Now, now the mirth comes

With the cake full of plums,

Where Bean’s the King of the sport here;

Beside we must know

The Pea also

Must revel, as Queen, in the Court here.

Begin then to choose,

(This night as ye use)

Who shall for the present delight here.

Be a King by the lot

And who shall not

Be Twelfth-day Queen for the night here.

Which known, let us make

Joy-sops with the cake;

And let not a man then be seen here,

Who unurg’d will not drink

To the base from the brink

A health to the King and the Queen here.

Next crown the bowl full

With gentle lambs-wool;

Add sugar, nutmeg and ginger,

With store of ale too;

And thus ye must do

To make the wassail a swinger.

Give then to the King

And Queen wassailing;

And though with ale ye be wet here;

Yet part ye from hence,

As free from offence

As when ye innocent met here.

- Robert Herrick-

New Year Snow

2012-01-02T06:51:00.000-08:00

THE white snow falls on hill and dale,

The snow falls white by square and street,

Falls on the town, a bridal veil,

And on the fields a winding-sheet.

A winding-sheet for last year's flowers,

For last year's love, and last year's tear,

A bridal veil for the New Hours,

For the New Love and the New Year.

Soft snow, spread out his winding-sheet!

Spin fine her veil, O bridal snow!

Cover the print of her dancing feet,

And the place where he lies low.

-Edith Nesbit-

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T07:10:00.000-08:00

"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in."

- Alfred Lord Tennyson-

New Year's in England and Wales

2011-12-30T05:43:00.000-08:00

Midwinter celebrations have been held by the people of the British Isles since ancient times. These often included parties, special food and large fires to "tempt" the sun to return. England celebrates the New Year from the evening of December 31st into January 1st .Ringing the bells to announce the death of the old year and birth of the new is a common custom in England and Scotland and some parts of the United States. In many of the churches in England an impressive service is held at the hour of midnight. According to another English custom, as the midnight hour strikes, the people open the back door to let the old year out and let in the new.

In England in many places it still is the custom that a dark haired man should let in the New Year for good luck. The man leaves the house by the back door just before midnight on New Years Eve, walks around and on the strike of midnight, knocks on the front door the householder opens the door, and receives from the man the following gifts...salt for seasoning, silver for wealth, coal for warmth, a match for kindling and bread for sustenance.

The head of the household assembled his family around a bowl of spiced ale from which he drank their healths, then passed it to the rest that they might drink too. The word that passed amongst them was the ancient Saxon phrase, Wast hael; that is, to your health. Hence this came to be recognised as the Wassail or Wassel Bowl, while the poorer people carried a bowl adorned with ribbons throughout the neighbourhood, begging for something wherewith to obtain the means of filling it, that they too might enjoy wassail as well as the rich.

In Wales, New Year's Eve is called "Nos Galan" in Welsh fires are often burned on New Year's to purify the house for the entrance of the New Year, and the ashes of these fires are kept most sacredly from year to year. They are supposed to possess special medicinal virtues. People in Wales also believe that you should pay off all bills before the New Year begins because ending a year in debt means a whole new year of debt.

Calennig is the Welsh tradition of New Year gift giving. A Calennig is an apple with three twig legs stuck with dried fruit, cloves and a spray of evergreens stuck into the top. It is a traditional Welsh decoration to give friends and families on New Years day to with them luck during the new year. From dawn until noon on New Year's Day, all around Wales, groups of young boys would go from door to door, carrying three-legged totems, chanting rhymes, splashing people with water and asking for calennig - gifts of small change.

Where does the Winter go?

2011-12-28T09:55:00.000-08:00

There goes the Winter, sulkily slinking

Somewhere behind the trees on the hill.

He caught a vision of sweet Spring primping

In green before her mirror---the rill.

And he turned away

With his face quite grey,

And he went without ever a glance behind him

But I want to know

Which way does he go,

And does anyone ever try to find him?

Is he caught to the sky in a burst of thunder

And tucked away in the clouds to sleep?

Or does he go down to the sea, I wonder,

And fling himself out where the waves roll deep?

Is he washed ashore

After tossings sore,

And found by some fisherman, pale and dying?

On some lonely beach

Beyond human reach

Still and stark is poor Winter lying?

Or climbs he up, with his grey head drooping,

Yon purple mountain that hides the sun,

And stooping and rising, rising and stooping,

Digs a grave where never was one?

And then lies down

In his grey, pale gown

A prayer on his lips, and his hands together?

"What tears will they shed

Because I am dead?

They will dance on my grave all the bright Spring weather."

Oh! Winter, Winter, my tears are falling,

Are you glad of the tears of a little child?

Though Spring is abroad and calling, calling,

I cling to the edge of your cloak so wild.

And I kiss your hand

And I understand,

And I smooth your poor grey head, low-lying,

Ah! I cannot sing

Just yet with the Spring

While Winter, Winter, is pale and dying.

Ethel Turner

Boxing Day

2011-12-26T06:33:00.000-08:00

The day after Christmas, December 26, is known in England as Boxing Day, one of the Christmas holiday's most honored traditions.This derives from an old tradition of tradesmen going from door to door collecting their Christmas boxes, or gifts, from grateful customers. At one time, the boxes were made of earthenware with a slot for coins and had to be broken to get the money out. The term 'Christmas Box' later came to cover a variety of payments and presents, but the fundamental point is that these were not simply gifts, but gratuities for services rendered. Anyone who served, looked after, or delivered goods to the public could expect a gratuity from each of their customers.

In time, elements of these practices were modified into the custom of Boxing Day in England, during which members of the upper classes would package up some of their castoff goods and clothing as year-end gifts for their servants. A box to collect money for the poor was placed in Churches on Christmas day then opened the next day.

A Christmas Carol

2011-12-23T05:57:00.000-08:00

Hark! In the air, around, above,
The Angelic Music soars and swells,
And, in the Garden that I love,
I hear the sound of Christmas Bells.

From hamlet hollow, village height,
The silvery Message seems to start,
And, far away, its notes to-night
Are surging through the city's heart.

Assurance clear to those who fret
O'er vanished Faith and feelings fled,
That not in English homes is yet
Tradition dumb, or Reverence dead:

Nor, when anew from town-girt tower
Or fen-swept spire the Yule-bells peal,
Are those who watch o'er England's power
Too wise to pray, too proud to kneel.

Now onward floats the sacred tale,
Past leafless woodlands, freezing rills;
It wakes from sleep the silent vale,
It skims the mere, it scales the hills;

And, rippling on up rings of space,
Sounds faint and fainter as more high,
Till mortal ear no more may trace
The music homeward to the sky.

To courtly roof and rustic cot
Old comrades wend from far and wide:
Now is the ancient feud forgot,
The growing grudge is laid aside.

Bright on the board the gifts are spread,
The flagons gleam, the trenchers smoke;
The boar's is now the laurelled head,
Now is the Feast of simple folk.

The agëd tell of ancient cheer,
And boast 'twas merrier then than now;
The children shout `A glad New Year!'
And kiss beneath the berried bough.

But, in the pauses of their mirth,
The Heavenly Hymn is carolled still:
`Glory to God on high, on Earth
Peace, and to all mankind good-will.'

Peace and good-will 'twixt rich and poor!
Good-will and peace 'twixt class and class!
Let old with new, let Prince with boor,
Send round the bowl, and drain the glass!

That still behind the steely sea,
That guards our greatness like a sword,
The free-born children of the free
May own one law, one land, one lord;

And never in our midst may sound
Discordant voice or threat morose,
But every Year that circles round
May find and bind us yet more close.

But not alone for those who still
Within the Mother-Land abide,
We deck the porch, we dress the sill,
And fling the portals open wide.

But unto all of British blood,-
Whether they cling to Egbert's Throne,
Or, far beyond the Western flood,
Have reared a Sceptre of their own,

And, half-regretful, yearn to win
Their way back home, and fondly claim
The rightful share of kith and kin
In Alfred's glory, Shakespeare's fame,-

We pile the logs, we troll the stave,
We waft the tidings wide and far,
And speed the wish, on wind and wave,
To Southern Cross and Northern Star.

Yes! Peace on earth, Atlantic strand!
Peace and good-will, Pacific shore!
Across the waters stretch your hand,
And be our brothers more and more!

Blood of our blood, in every clime!
Race of our race, by every sea!
To you we sing the Christmas rhyme,
For you we light the Christmas-tree.

Alfred Austin

Wishing you all a Happy Holiday. May all of your dreams come true.

Here we Come A-Wassailing

2011-12-20T20:18:00.000-08:00

Wassailing is a very ancient part of Christmas festivities in England that is rarely done today. Wassail itself refers to a drink of mulled warm ale or spiced cider which contained curdled cream, roasted apples, eggs, cloves, ginger, nutmeg and sugar which pre-dates the Christian festival by centuries. It was served from huge bowls, often made of silver or pewter. It was the beverage imbibed on the Twelfth Night of Christmas.

In some parts of England “wassailing” came to refer to a party at which carols were sung and wassail was drunk, or to the practice of traveling from house to house with a bowl of wassail decorated with ribbons, garlands (and sometimes a golden apple), caroling, giving blessings and a drink of wassail in exchange for some small gift of money or food.

The ceremony from which wassailing developed was a toast to the sun as it rose on the morning after the shortest day of the year...the Winter Solstice. It was, like the veneration of the evergreens, believed to encourage a bountiful harvest in the year to come.

Custom called for a bowl of wassail to be kept steaming throughout the Christmas season; someone would offer a toast of the drink saying, “Wassail” (be whole) and another would reply, “Drinkhail” (your health). And, of all of the seasonal songs and carols, the wassailing song is probably the only one left that evokes the drinking spirit of the Midwinter Solstice celebrations. The most popular of the Wassailing carols went as follows:

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wassailing,
So fair to be seen:

Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you,
A happy New Year,
And God send you,
A happy new year.

The British Feast Of Alban Arthan

2011-12-19T06:28:00.000-08:00

The Pagan origin of most of our Christmas customs is undoubted. Even our Christmas tree is a symbol of heathen rites in times long antedating Christ. The early Christian fathers, when adopting the popular customs of their predecessors and bending them to the service of Christianity, made very little change in them aside from the substitution of new motives and names for the old festivals peculiar to several seasons of the year.

The British Druids' feast of Alban Arthan, meaning "Light of Arthur", which marks the Winter Solstice, more commonly known as Yule (Norse), and has now merged with the modern celebration of Christmas. It is the first of the four Alban Gates or solar festivals in the year. Alban Arthan begins on or about the 21st of December, and lasts for a period of three days. According to one ancient legend, at this time the sun is supposed to fight with Avagdu, the ugly son of Ceridwen and the spirit of darkness, whose name in Welsh has become synonymous with darkness and hell. On the third day he rose, and the bards struck their harps, rejoicing that the sun had again been found.

It is also the traditional birthday of King Arthur. On this day, money and gifts are bestowed on the poor.

Going Offline

2011-12-14T09:04:00.000-08:00

"In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter,

Long ago."

- Christmas Carol-

As those of you who follow my home blog already know, tomorrow is moving day for me....a big step after living in the same apartment for 15 years. Cable and internet should be installed over the weekend, 'should be' but we all know how these services work. At any rate, I will be returning to work on Monday with access to a computer. Might have work piled to the ceiling, though, so probably will not be back until sometime in the middle of next week.

May you all have a blessed weekend. Thanks for being here.

O Come All Ye Faithful

2011-12-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

Few Christmas carols have stirred the multitudes as much as "Oh Come All Ye Faithful", translated from the Latin "Adeste Fideles", yet the origin of this hymn is somewhat controversial and somewhat of a mystery. The best guess is that the first version was written by an Englishman, John Francis Wade, in the mid-eighteenth century. Originally sung in Latin, this famous hymn became popular after the English translation in 1841 by Frederick Oakeley under the title, "Hymn for Christmas Day".

Regardless of the origin, though, it remains one of our favorite Christmas songs.

O come, all ye faithful, Joyful, and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him, Born the King of Angels!

Chorus:

O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord!

God of God, Light of Light,
Lo! He abhors not the Virgin's womb;
Very God, Begotten, not created.

Chorus:

O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord!

Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens, of heaven above!
Glory to God, in the highest!

Chorus:
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord!

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, Born this happy morning;
Jesus, to Thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, Now in flesh appearing.

Chorus:

O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord!

The Twelve Days of Christmas

2011-12-11T17:14:00.000-08:00

the first day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

A partridge in a pear tree.

We know all the verses to this endearing Christmas carol telling of a suitor's Christmas gifts to his sweetheart, but what is the true meanings of these 12 seemingly simple rhymes?

The song actually dates from a time of religious persecution. According to history, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone wrote the song, "The Twelve Days of Christmas" as a secret catechism that could be sung in public without fear of being arrested. The song had two levels of meaning--a surface meaning and hidden meaning known only to the members of their church. Each element in the carol is a code for a religious truth.

1. The partridge in a pear tree is Jesus on the cross.

On the second day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Two turtle doves,

2. The two turtledoves were the Old and New Testaments.

On the third day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Three French hens,

3. The three French hens represent the gifts of the spirit-- faith, hope and love.

On the fourth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Four calling birds,

4. The four calling birds are the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

On the fifth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Five golden rings,

5. The five gold rings are the Jewish Torah, first five books of the Old Testament.

On the sixth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Six geese a-laying,

6. The six geese a-laying stand for the six days of creation.

On the seventh day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Seven swans a-swimming,

7. The seven swans a-swimming represent the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

On the eighth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Eight maids a-milking,

8. The eight maids a-milking are the eight Beatitudes mentioned in the Sermon on the Mount.

On the ninth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Nine ladies dancing,

9. The nine ladies dancing are the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-control.

On the tenth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Ten lords a-leaping,

10. The ten lords a-leaping are the Ten Commandments.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Eleven pipers piping,

11. Eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful Apostles. (Judas is not included).

On the twelfth day of Christmas,

my true love sent to me

Twelve drummers drumming,

12. Twelve drummers drumming symbolize the twelve points of belief in the Apostles Creed.

So that "silly" song we sing at Christmas time has more meaning than we thought.

Caroling

2011-12-08T16:55:00.000-08:00

Here in New York, light FM has been playing carols 24 hours a day all through the month of December. I love it. Because I am in the middle of a move, right now it is about all the Christmas I get.

Christmas carols have always been popular in England. The word 'carol' hails from the days of Pagan celebrations. During the Winter solstice, a circle dance was performed. As the dancers danced, they also sang to show their gratitude and happiness for another year of life. Ancient plainsong chants, mainly by priests during church services, are the earliest known forms of Christmas music. The first true carol was 'Saviour of the Nations, Come' which was written by St. Ambrose during the 4th Century. An excerpt follows:

Saviour of the nations, come;
Leave for us thy glorious home:
Glad Osannas we will sing,
Greeting thee, our heavenly King.

With a loyal kiss of love
We receive thee from above,
With a solemn vow to pay
True allegiance to thy sway.

During the 13th century, peasants celebrated Christmas with festivals, feasts, dancing in the streets, and Christmas carols were trolled in every street. Groups of carolers, called 'waits', made the rounds on Christmas Eve singing before doorways and under windows. Often they carried small instruments, and sometimes they rode in a wagon. It was the custom of the householders who were serenaded to reward the carolers with gifts of food or money. The songs that they sung were handed down from one generation to the next. Some favorite classic Christmas carols date back to the 12th and 13th centuries.

The following beautiful carol, also known as the “Ennsicorthy Carol,” is believed to have originated in the 12th century in County Wexford on the Southeast coast of Ireland:

Good people all, this Christmas-time,

Consider well and bear in mind

What our good God for us has done

In sending his beloved Son.

With Mary holy we should pray

To God with love this Christmas day;

In Bethlehem upon that morn

There was a blessed Messiah born.

The night before that happy tide

The noble Virgin and her guide

Were long time seeking up and down

To find a lodging in the town.

But mark how all things came to pass;

From every door repelled alas!

As long foretold, their refuge all

Was but an humble ox's stall.

There were three wise men from afar

Directed by a glorious star,

And on they wandered night and day

Until they came where Jesus lay,

And when they came unto that place

Where our beloved Messiah was,

They humbly cast them at his feet,

With gifts of gold and incense sweet.

Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep

Their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep;

To whom God's angels did appear,

Which put the shepherds in great fear.

'Prepare and go', the angles said.

'To Bethlehem, be not afraid:

For there you'll find, this happy morn,

A princely babe, sweet Jesus born.

With thankful heart and joyful mind,

The shepherds went the babe to find,

And as God's angel had foretold,

They did our saviour Christ behold.

Within a manger he was laid,

And by his side the virgin maid,

Attending on the Lord of life,

Who came on earth to end all strife.

A Christmas Tale

2011-12-06T21:04:00.000-08:00

"So now is come our joyful feast,
Let every man be jolly;
Each room with ivy leaves is dressed,
And every post with holly.
Though some churls at our mirth repine,
Round your foreheads garlands twine,
Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,
And let us all be merry.

Now all our neighbors' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with baked meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury it in a Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry."

- George Wither -

Christmas Bells

2011-12-05T09:23:00.000-08:00

Bells, especially Church Bells, have been traditionally associated with Christmas for a long time, but hundreds of years before the first Christmas, bell had announced happy as well as sad events. In the Anglican and Catholic churches, the church day starts at sunset, so any service after that is the first service of the day. Hence, the service one attends on Christmas Eve sunset is traditionally the first service of Christmas day!

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’

And through some of the darkest periods of history Christmas bells have still rung out their message of peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

Faithless Sally Brown

2011-11-30T07:39:00.000-08:00

Young Ben he was a nice young man,

A carpenter by trade;

And he fell in love with Sally Brown,

That was a lady's maid.

But as they fetch'd a walk one day,

They met a press-gang crew;

And Sally she did faint away,

Whilst Ben he was brought to.

The Boatswain swore with wicked words,

Enough to shock a saint,

That though she did seem in a fit,

'Twas nothing but a feint.

"Come, girl," said he, "hold up your head,

He'll be as good as me;

For when your swain is in our boat,

A boatswain he will be."

So when they'd made their game of her,

And taken off her elf,

She roused, and found she only was

A coming to herself.

"And is he gone, and is he gone?"

She cried, and wept outright:

"Then I will to the water side,

And see him out of sight."

A waterman came up to her,--

"Now, young woman," said he,

"If you weep on so, you will make

Eye-water in the sea."

"Alas! they've taken my beau Ben

To sail with old Benbow;"

And her woe began to run afresh,

As if she'd said Gee woe!

Says he, "They've only taken him

To the Tender ship, you see";

"The Tender-ship," cried Sally Brown

"What a hard-ship that must be!"

"O! would I were a mermaid now,

For then I'd follow him;

But Oh!--I'm not a fish-woman,

And so I cannot swim.

"Alas! I was not born beneath

The virgin and the scales,

So I must curse my cruel stars,

And walk about in Wales."

Now Ben had sail'd to many a place

That's underneath the world;

But in two years the ship came home,

And all her sails were furl'd.

But when he call'd on Sally Brown,

To see how she went on,

He found she'd got another Ben,

Whose Christian-name was John.

"O Sally Brown, O Sally Brown,

How could you serve me so?

I've met with many a breeze before,

But never such a blow":

Then reading on his 'bacco box

He heaved a bitter sigh,

And then began to eye his pipe,

And then to pipe his eye.

And then he tried to sing "All's Well,"

But could not though he tried;

His head was turn'd, and so he chew'd

His pigtail till he died.

His death, which happen'd in his berth,

At forty-odd befell:

They went and told the sexton, and

The sexton toll'd the bell.

Thomas Hood

Celtic Tree Calendar....The Elder

2011-11-28T07:25:00.000-08:00

According to the Celtic Tree Calendar, the Elder is the 13th tree of the year and dates from November 25th to December 22rd. This tree marks the dark time, the time of the Winter Solstice. It is a bushy and multi-stemmed tree which thrives near wet ditches, and is often seen growing on the ruins of old walls, or from the hollow of decayed trees, along the edge of the forests; it has even managed to find a way through the cracks in the concrete of cities and towns. The elder tree has clusters of white or cream colored flowers that generally bloom in the late spring. Once these clusters are gone, the Elder tree will produce small berries that may vary in color between black, blue-black or red.

The Elder is a great healing tree with marvelous medicinal properties. All parts of the tree...its flowers, leaves, roots, shoots, berries and bark are used to treat a variety of illnesses. A tea, using flowers has a purifying effect on the blood and can be used for abcesses, eczemas, burns, and swellings. The flowers, fruits and the juice obtained from the fruits can calm neuralgia and are also useful in case of rheumatism, diseases of the respiratory system or sciatica. Fresh leaves can be applied to wounds as a compress. Elder flower is used for the eyes and also as a skin cream. T The berries can be also used as a mild laxative.

Both the flowers and fruit of the elder tree are used to make wine. Elder fruit is also used to make jellies and the flowers to make a non-alcoholic cordial. Elder wine was sacred and used for clairvoyance and divinatory purposes. The berries used for this sacred purpose were the ones left on the tree in December and were gathered with great care and ceremony and considered a gift from Mother Earth.

The elder tree also has uses as a dye, green from the leaves, shades of blue from the flowers and black from the bark. The young shoots have a soft pith, which is easily pushed out to form a hollow tube; these were used for making pipes.

Caution: Elderberries should not be eaten raw; neither should they be used for making fresh juice as this can cause vomiting and diarrhea.

The Feast of Saint Clement , November 23

2011-11-22T05:47:00.000-08:00

On November 23rd, in England, Saint Clement, the patron saint of blacksmiths, is honored with elaborate rituals. However, in ancient times, this day was celebrated with a Pagan feast in honor of the wizard-blacksmith of the Saxon deities. This day was also formerly considered as the first day of winter. Apparently, it marks one of the stages in the progress of the winter feast towards its present solstital date. Children used to go round to village houses begging for gifts and singing rhymes. In other parts of England, boys also chanted rhymes, and at the close of their collection, they would roast the apples they collected and toss them into ale or cider. Men used to go about begging drink while chanting:

"Gentlemen nil, attention give,

And wish St. Clem long, long to live."

One of their number was chosen to play the part of “Old Clem,” was attired in a great coat, and wore a mask, a long white beard, and an oakum wig. Seated in a large wooden chair, and surrounded by attendants bearing banners, torches, and weapons, he was borne about the town on the shoulders of six men, visiting numerous public-houses and the blacksmiths and officers of the dockyard.

To the Muses

2011-11-18T08:26:00.000-08:00

Whether on Ida's shady brow

Or in the chambers of the East,

The chambers of the Sun,

that now From ancient melody have ceased;

Whether in heaven ye wander fair

Or the green corners of the earth,

Or the blue regions of the air,

Where the melodious winds have birth;
Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,

Beneath the bosom of the sea

Wandering in many a coral grove,

Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry;

How have you left the ancient love

That bards of old enjoy'd in you!

The languid strings do scarcely move,

The sound is forced, the notes are few!

William Blake

Afanc

2011-11-16T07:30:00.000-08:00

In Welsh literature and oral tradition the Afanc is a sort of water monster that lives in lakes. It was famous for killing livestock for fun and strike fear into the hearts of the locals. The story of the Afanc runs through all Welsh medieval legend. Welsh peasants say that in the darkness of the night a voice cries from the depths of certain lakes. The Afanc is said to have magical powers and has been variously described as resembling a supernatural crocodile, a giant beaver or a water demon. According to one report, the monster resembled a centaur.

The Afanc was supposed to have lurked and awaited victims from the depths of lakes and was said to prey upon any foolish enough to fall into or swim in its lake. It was also said to cause terrible floods when it thrashed about in the waters. According to legend, it once drowned all the inhabitants of Britain save two--Dwyfan and Dwyfach, the ancestors of the British people.

The monster, crafty, cunning animal who strikes terror in the hearts of men, is actually quite innocent. According to one tale, the creature was rendered completely helpless by a maiden who allowed it sleep upon her lap. While it slept, the maiden's fellow villagers bound the creature in chains. When he woke from his nap and perceived what had been done to him, he got up suddenly and hurried to his old refuge, taking with him in his claw the breast of his sweetheart. It was finally dragged away to the lake Cwm Ffynnon, or killed by Peredur.

Feast of the Musicians November 14

2011-11-14T03:57:00.000-08:00

On this date,the annual Druid festival known as the Feast of the Musicians takes place. It is a day to pay homage to the bards and musicians and to honor the Celtic gods of music. The Celtic people have had a passion for poetry, song and music since the beginning of their existence, and it was always very important of old Celtic gatherings. Songs are sung around an open fire as various offerings songs are cast into the flames.

And, with their love of music, it is only natural that the Celts perceived the Otherworld as full of melodious song. For example, the Irish god, Dagda, was a master of music. He owned an enchanted harp that could fly through the air at his call and compel its listeners to cry, laugh, or weep, depending on the music played on its strings. Angus Mac Og, the god of youth, love, and beauty, possessed a harp that was said to make irresistible music.

In the Voyage of Bran, the music is not only a characteristic feature of the Otherworld, but also introduces it. The story goes as follows: Bran is out walking one day, when he hears music. He falls asleep and wakes to find a silver branch with white flowers, which emits the the most haunting, otherworldly music. As he listened, so sweet was the sound that it lulled him to sleep, When he awoke from his sleep, there lay beside him a branch a silver branch covered with blossoms. Bran gazed at it, spellbound. Taking the branch with him, he returned to his stronghold.

The next day, as he is sitting with his men, a mysterious woman appears singing the glory of a distant and wonderful island far out in the western ocean, its beauty, its freedom from pain and death, its music, its wonderful tree. The silver branch is a token that her tale is true. Before she disappears, the branch leaps into her hand. Bran is naturally filled with longing to see this place.

'A branch of the apple-tree from Emain
I bring, like those one knows;
Twigs of white silver are on it,
Crystal brows with blossoms.

' There is a distant isle,
Around which sea-horses glisten:
A fair course against the white-swelling surge,
Four feet uphold it.

The poem then goes on to describe Bran's sailing with his comrades, his meeting with Mannon mac Lir, crossing the sea in a chariot, his arrival at the Island of Joy where one of his men remained, his coming to the Land of Women, the welcome they received, the dreamlike lapse of time, the food and drink which had for each the taste he desired. Finally, it recounts their homesickness, the warning from the queen not to set foot on Erin, how one of them leaped ashore and became a heap of ashes, how Bran and his company relate the rest of their story to the Irish, and then sail across the sea, never to be seen again.

2011-11-10T05:23:00.000-08:00

It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often 'tis in such gentle temper found,
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from whence it sometime fell,
When last the winds of heaven were unbound.
Oh ye! who have your eye-balls vexed and tired,
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;
Oh ye! whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody, -
Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood
Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs choired!

--John Keats--

Gwynn ap Nudd's Underworld Day: November 8th

2011-11-08T06:09:00.000-08:00

I come from battle and conflict
With a shield in my hand;
Broken is the helmet by the pushing of spears.
Round-hoofed is my horse, the torment of battle,
Whilst I am called Gwynn the son of Nudd,
The lover of Creudylad , the daughter of Lludd.

Today is the day the Celtic god Gwynn ap Nudd opens the door of the Underworld. In Welsh mythology, he was the leader of the Hunt and the ruler of Annwn (the Underworld). He escorted the souls of the dead there, and led a pack of supernatural hounds, Cwn Annwn. He was also ruler over the goblin tribe in general. As an Underworld god, Gwyn ap Nudd may be seen as theguardian of winter. He is celebrated as the 'Winter King' and he is represented in the night sky with the return of the constellation of Orion the Hunter in Autumn. He governs the sky at Samhain, the Celtic New Year and his presence was a comfort to the people at mid-Winter when the sun was reborn and the days started to grow in length again.

According to old British (Welsh) writings, Gwyn ap Nudd's home was Glastonbury Tor. In the early Arthurian story Culhwch and Olwen, he abducted a maiden called Creiddylad after she eloped with Gwythr ap Greidawl, Gwyn's long-time rival. Gwynn and Gwythr's fight, which began on May Day, represented the contest between summer and winter. He helped Culhwch hunt the boar Twrch Trwyth. In later legends Gwynn is king of the tylwyth teg or "fair folk".In later legends Gwyn is king of the tylwyth teg or "fair folk".

Celtic Tree Month....The Reed(Oct 28 – Nov 24)

2011-11-04T05:26:00.000-07:00

According to the Celtic Tree calendar, the Reed/Broom dates from the October 28th to November 24th, which includes the Celtic New Year of October 31st, better known today as Samhain or Halloween, and while neither would be considered a traditional tree, both are part of the tree ogham and an important part of Celtic society. The Druids classified reed as a tree because of its woody stalk and dense root system. Broom is an upright shrub with slender green branches sprinkled with small, bright green leaves. Its flowers, less than an inch long, are fragrant and range in color from light yellow to yellow gold. Common reeds grow in marshes or along the edges of ponds, lakes, and streams. They can grow in shallow water as well as in dry places.

The broom is such a versatile plant that it has many uses. People use reeds to stop erosion, and it is commonly planted on the sides of steep banks were its roots serve to hold the earth together. The shrub itself seldom grows large enough to furnish any useful wood, but its stems, when they reach sufficient size, provide valuable materials for vaneering. As it’s name suggests, it was popularly used for making brooms and brushes, and was commonly used for basketwork or for thatching cottages. The flexible twigs of the wild broom were used for making house brooms and baskets. The reed/broom has also always been associated with music as pipes and flutes were often made from reeds.

The green tips of the flowering branches of broom have a long tradition in herbal medicine. Broom tea is a well-known diuretic and a decoction of the plant is recommended in herbal medicine for bladder and kidney afflictions. The seeds were also used as a substitute for coffee. (* However, broom juice in large doses can disturb the stomach and bowels so, as with any other herbal medication, use with caution.)

Brooms symbolize purification, protection and fertility. They also represent established power, for wands, rods and scepters made from their wood were often carried as symbols of authority.

All Souls Day

2011-11-02T07:35:00.000-07:00

In 1000 CE, the church named November 2 All Souls' Day, a day to honor the dead. The choice of the day was doubtless determined by the fact that November 1, or rather the eve or night preceding it, was one of the four great festivals of the pagans for it was the policy of the Church to usurp pagan activities with Christian observances. All Soul's Day has its roots in the ancient Pagan Festival of the Dead, based on the pagan belief that the souls of the dead would return for a meal with the family. Candles kept in the window guide the souls back home and another place was set at the table.

The day itself celebrated in a fashion similar to Samhain, with great bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels, and devils. The customs and traditions associated with All Soul's Day are various and differs from culture to culture. Some Christians simply visit their friends and loved ones buried in cemeteries. Some people place blessed candles with the deceased names at the gravesite. Because many believe the departed eat food that is left out for them, some have picnics near the graves of loved ones. Others make homemade alters and offer food or leave food out on the table.

One old custom for All Souls Day is to make 'soul cakes.' They are sweet, pieces of bread with currants baked in a circle. They are given away as a kind of prayer for a loved one. The more soul cakes the beggars received, the more prayers they promised to say on behalf of dead relatives. The color of vestments and altar drapings on the Day of All Souls is black.

All Saints' Day

2011-11-01T06:03:00.000-07:00

In days past, November 1st marked Samhain, the beginning of the Celtic winter. It is a feast named for the Celtic lord of death, Samhain whose name literally meant 'summer's end'...and because winter is the season of darkness and death, the Celts connected it with human death. Hence, the eve of Samhain, October 31st, became when the souls of the dead returned to their earthly homes for an evening. And, because the veil was thin on this night, ghosts, witches, and elves found it easy to cross over to the realm of mortals and cause harm to the people, particularly those who had inflicted harm on them in this life.

When the Roman Catholic Church encountered the Celtic Samhain celebration and saw that the Celts were reluctant to give it up, the Church blended it with All Saint's Day, a day which honors all of the Christian saints and martyrs, and a feast was held to honor all of the saints, known and unknown. The mass for All Saints' Day was called Allhollowmas. The celebration of this day expresses gratitude for their unique contributions . spiritual presence in the lives of people today. In time, the evening before became known as All Hallow e'en, or Halloween.

Symbols commonly associated with All Saints’ Day are:

A sheaf of wheat.
Rayed Manus Dei (hand of God).
The crown.
Symbols (including images) of individual saints.
The liturgical color is white on All Saints' Day.

When Christianity became established in Britain, many of the Pagan Goddesses and Gods fell under the rule of all the saints. Many of the pagan traditions remained, however, perhaps at first more out of superstition, and later, more out of fun without any real tie to paganism. For this reason, children still dress in a variety of costumes and pretend for the evening to be ghosts, witches, vampires, ghosts, and monsters. Today, however, All Saints Day and Halloween Night are completely unrelated events.

At dusk the festival changed from All Saints' Day to All Souls' Eve.

Samhain Blessings

2011-10-31T05:41:00.000-07:00

Samhain Blessings to you and yours.

Haunted Houses

2011-10-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the door-way, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.

We have no title-deeds to house or lands;
Owners and occupants of earlier dates
From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,
And hold in mortmain still their old estates.

The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Our little lives are kept in equipoise
By opposite attractions and desires;
The struggle of the instinct that enjoys,
And the more noble instinct that aspires.

These perturbations, this perpetual jar
Of earthly wants and aspirations high,
Come from the influence of an unseen star
An undiscovered planet in our sky.

And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud
Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light,
Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd
Into the realm of mystery and night,—

So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow--

Silent Company

2011-10-26T07:48:00.000-07:00

A very ancient celebration is the 'Eve of All Saints' or 'All Hallows Eve'- Halloween. In pre-Christian times, it was a day when the Druids gathered within a ring of stone and chanted runes. It was also the time when the veils thinned, and the souls of the dead were thought to revisit their homes to eat and drink. People left refreshments on the table and unlocked their doors before retiring for the night, then bells were rung, fires lit to guide the returning souls back to earth and animals were brought in for the winter.

On this night, during the 19th century, the 'procession of the tombs' was held. Villagers formed a line and walked about the cemetery, calling the names of those who were dead, as they approached their resting places. The blessedness of death is praised, the sorrows and shortness of life dwelt upon. After a common prayer all go out to the cemetery to pray separately, each by the graves of his kin, or to the 'place of bones,' where the remains of those long dead are thrown all together in one tomb. They can be seen behind gratings, by the people as they pass, and rows of skulls at the sides of the entrance can be touched. From the cemetery the people go to a house or an inn which is the gathering-place for the night, singing or taking loudly on the road to warn the dead who are hastening home, lest they may meet.

Once at home, a toast is drunk to the memory of the departed, and the supper for the souls is then set out. In Wales, they were known as the 'silent company', and the food was set aside to be consumed by them. The meal usually consisted of warm pancakes, curd cheese and mugs of cider. When the family retired for the night, they sometimes heard the scraping of stools and clatter of plates and forks, as the spirits enjoyed their meal. Nor did they forget the homeless spirits, sadly roaming about the countryside with nowhere to go. Food and drink were set out on doorstep and windowsill so that they too might have a share.

"They will sit where we sat, and will talk of us as we talked of them: in the gray of the morning only will they go away."

-- Night of the Dead--

Just before midnight a bell-man goes about the streets to give warning of the hour when the spirits will arrive. Then, after all have retired to lie with both eyes shut tight lest they see one of the guests, death-singers make their rounds, chanting under the windows:

"You are comfortably lying in your bed,
But with the poor dead it is otherwise;
You are stretched softly in your bed
While the poor souls are wandering abroad.
"A white sheet and five planks,
A bundle of straw beneath the head,
Five feet of earth above
Are all the worldly goods we own."

--Night of the Dead--

Vigil of Samhain

2011-10-24T05:54:00.000-07:00

Samhain is a holiday about death and rebirth. In parts of Ireland October 31st was, and even still is, known as Oidhche Shamhna, the 'Vigil of Samhain'. It was on this night that our ancestors celebrated in honor of their god, Samhain, lord of the dead and the cold, dark winter season. It was a time of vigils for the dead, and the celebration itself was rather somber. It was not too many years ago that huge bonfires were lit on Halloween in the highlands of Scotland and Wales, and by lighting great bonfires on the hillsides, on the Vigil of Samhain, they hoped to scare away the evil spirits who roamed the earth that night.

In Northern Wales, there is a custom upon All Saints' Eve of making a great fire called Coel Coeth, when every family makes a great bonfire in the most conspicuous place near the house. When the fire is almost extinguished every member of the family tosses a white stone into the ashes, having first marked it; then having said their prayers turning round the fire, they go to bed. In the morning, as soon as they are up, they come to search out the stones, and if any one of them is found missing, it means that the spirits will call upon the soul of that person during the coming year.

To Autumn

2011-10-21T07:24:00.000-07:00

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells."

--John Keats--

Hallowe'en

2011-10-19T07:42:00.000-07:00

"'Why do you wait at your door, woman,

Alone in the night?'

'I am waiting for one who will come, stranger,

To show him a light.

He will see me afar on the road,

And be glad at the sight.'

"'Have you no fear in your heart, woman,

To stand there alone?

There is comfort for you and kindly content

Beside the hearthstone.'

But she answered, 'No rest can I have

Till I welcome my own.'

"'Is it far he must travel to-night,

This man of your heart?'

'Strange lands that I know not, and pitiless seas

Have kept us apart,

And he travels this night to his home

Without guide, without chart.'

"'And has he companions to cheer him?'

'Aye, many,' she said.

'The candles are lighted, the hearthstones are swept,

The fires glow red.

We shall welcome them out of the night--

Our home-coming dead.'"

--Lettes--

Nutcrack Night

2011-10-17T06:15:00.000-07:00

Halloween was once nicknamed 'Nutcrack Night' in some parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, because nuts were so much a part of the holiday. The Hazelnut, like the tree itself, was believed to possess divining powers which were held to be especially potent on Halloween. The nut was also a symbol of life and fertility, hence, on this occasion, it was customary for folks to gather round the fire and crack nuts to be eaten, as well as being made the oracles of the occasion, toss them on the fire.

If a nut burned brightly it meant that the thrower would be alive in twelve months time, and if it flared up brightly it meant marriage within twelve months. To see if a relationship will last, one would place two hazelnuts side by side and burn them over a fire. It was considered a good omen if they stayed together as they burned for it meant that the couple will last, but if the nuts burst apart, the relationship will break up. A young man might give each nut the name of a possible sweetheart and watch to see which burned the brightest in the flames. The poet, John Gay, wrote:

Two hazel-nuts I threw into the flame,
And to each nut I gave a sweetheart’s name:
This with the loudest bounce me sore amazed,
That in a flame of brightest colour blazed;
As blazed the nut, so may thy passion grow,
For ’twas thy nut that did so brightly glow!

When a young woman wanted to know if her boyfriend was faithful, she put three nuts on the bars of the fireplace grate, naming one nut for herself and the others for two boyfriends. If a nut cracked or jumped, the lover would prove unfaithful; if it began to blaze or burn, he liked the girl making the trial. If the nuts named after the girl and her boyfriend burned together, the couple would one day wed.

All Souls

2011-10-14T05:32:00.000-07:00

A thin moon faints in the sky o'erhead,
And dumb in the churchyard lie the dead.
Walk we not, Sweet, by garden ways,
Where the late rose hangs and the phlox delays,
But forth of the gate and down the road,
Past the church and the yews, to their dim abode.
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.

II

Fear not that sound like wind in the trees:
It is only their call that comes on the breeze;
Fear not the shudder that seems to pass:
It is only the tread of their feet on the grass;
Fear not the drip of the bough as you stoop:
It is only the touch of their hands that grope -
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can yearn and the dead can smite.

III

And where should a man bring his sweet to woo
But here, where such hundreds were lovers too?
Where lie the dead lips that thirst to kiss,
The empty hands that their fellows miss,
Where the maid and her lover, from sere to green,
Sleep bed by bed, with the worm between?
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.

IV

And now that they rise and walk in the cold,
Let us warm their blood and give youth to the old.
Let them see us and hear us, and say: 'Ah, thus
In the prime of the year it went with us!'
Till their lips drawn close, and so long unkist,
Forget they are mist that mingles with mist!
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can burn and the dead can smite.

V

Till they say, as they hear us - poor dead, poor dead! -
'Just an hour of this, and our age-long bed -
Just a thrill of the old remembered pains
To kindle a flame in our frozen veins,
Just a touch, and a sight, and a floating apart,
As the chill of dawn strikes each phantom heart -
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear, and the dead have sight.'

VI

And where should the living feel alive
But here in this wan white humming hive,
As the moon wastes down, and the dawn turns cold,
And one by one they creep back to the fold?
And where should a man hold his mate and say:
'One more, one more, ere we go their way'?
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the living can learn by the churchyard light.

VII

And how should we break faith who have seen
Those dead lips plight with the mist between,
And how forget, who have seen how soon
They lie thus chambered and cold to the moon?
How scorn, how hate, how strive, we too,
Who must do so soon as those others do?
For it's All Souls' night, and break of the day,
And behold, with the light the dead are away. . . .

Edith Wharton

Apples as a Symbol of Samhain

2011-10-12T04:50:00.000-07:00

The apple, as a symbol of life and immortality, is intimately connected with Arthurian and Druidic lore. Its history includes many accounts of sacred associations with the goddess, which is probably why the early Christians chose it as the fruit of evil. In many traditional myths, eating apples led to immortality. The early Norse gods ate apples to stay young, and in Celtic tradition, apples were buried at Samhain as food for those souls who are waiting to be reborn. The apple served as a healing object, a love charm, a fertility amulet, and a means of divination.

There are many apple games played at Samhain which grew out of the belief in the apple as a sacred and magical fruit. For example, the custom of bobbing for apples is one of the oldest traditions at Samhain celebrations. In the game, apples are placed in a tub or barrel of water, and dunkers will try to retrieve these apples with their teeth. Those who succeed will have good fortune the following year. Sometimes, once an apple is caught, the apple is peeled and tossed over the shoulder in the hope that the strips would fall into the shape of a letter, which would be the first initial of the participant's true love.

According to another superstition, apple peeling was a divination to see how long one's life would be. The longer the unbroken apple peel, the longer the life was destined to be. And some say that the first participant to get an apple will be the first to be wed. Another tradition included the lighting of a candle which, along with an apple, were fastened to a stick. And, as it whirled, each person in turn tried to bite the apple. The object was to bite the apple as it swung past and not get burnt by the candle. This could turn into a rough game; hence, it was usually more suited to boys.

There is an old Scottish custom of eating an apple on Samhain night while looking into the mirror. Legend says that you will see your true love reflected there. Another method required the girl to cut the apple into nine slices, eating eight of them, and, while standing with her back to the mirror, throw the ninth slice over her shoulder. Turning quickly around, she would see her husband-to-be looking at her from the glass.

"The rosy apple's bobbing
Upon the mimic sea--
'T is tricksy and elusive,
And glides away from me.

"One moment it is dreaming
Beneath the candle's glare,
Then over wave and eddy
It glances here and there.

"And when at last I capture
The prize with joy aglow,
I sigh, may I this sunshine
Of golden rapture know

"When I essay to gether
In all her witchery
Love's sweetest rosy apple
On Love's uncertain sea."

-- R. K. Munkittrick--

Wassailing at Samhain

2011-10-10T09:19:00.000-07:00

Samhain is the time of the apple harvest, and while wassailing, once a ritual to honor the apple tree in autumn, is now almost exclusively associated with Yule. Wassail is derived from the Saxon words woes hael, which me to 'be in health'. The tradition was to 'wassail' the apple trees to ensure a good crop..

The owner of the orchard would gather with the laborers and their families around one of the best fruit bearing trees in the orchard and pour cider on the roots of the tree. Bread or toast were tied to its branches as an offering to the spirit of tree. Women would run around the tree banging on pots and pans to scare off any evil spirits that might happen to be lurking nearby. And, during all this, a special 'wassail chant' such as the following would be sung:

Let every man take off his hat
And shout out to th'old apple tree
Old apple tree we wassail thee
And hoping thou will bear.

Wassailing in modern times is drinking to the health of anyone with a spiced punch prepared especially for the holiday.

The Sea God

2011-10-07T06:19:00.000-07:00

Sacrifices and offerings to the supreme god of the sea were common everywhere in ancient times. In Celtic thought, the sun made nighttime stops in underground waters when it fell below the horizon. Hence, thy believed that the sun god rises from the sea in the early morning and goes back to the other world at night.

The occasion of offering these sacrifices was the desire to have a successful voyage or a prosperous fishing season. At the same time the wish to appease the terrible lord of the ocean and to stand high in his favor should not be lost sight of. These sacrifices were frequently of human beings. In ancient history maidens were often said to be chained to a rock to be devoured by a sea-monster, and were frequently delivered by the aid of some hero who slew the monster.

One example of this is found in Scotland,where every mountain lake was believed to have its Kelpie which lived beneath the waters and the same terrible sprite haunted the rivers and the seashore. When a victim was required by the Kelpie, the demon sang a plaintive wailing song and someone was sure soon to be drowned. The screaming of the Kelpie near the sea-shore was also a terrible indication that a wreck with loss of life was soon to occur. Sir Walter Scott has preserved this superstition in the words:

The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite,

Whose screams forbode that death is nigh.

Other offerings of a simpler character were in ancient times in Cornwall offered to the Bucca Boo who seems originally to have been a sea god. Fishermen left a fish on the sands for bucca, and in the harvest a piece of bread at lunch-time was thrown over the left shoulder, and when fishermen were blessed with a good catch, give offerings of a few drops of beer spilled on the ground with hopes that their next catch would be good as well.

In Christian times the Bucca Boo was naturally superseded by Satan, who was supposed to have his home in the deep. The blending of the two beliefs can be traced in many superstitions of sailors, some of which have survived to the present day.

The Ivy on the Wall

2011-10-05T07:31:00.000-07:00

The verdant ivy clings around

Yon moss be-mantled wall,

As if it sought to hide the stones,

That crumbling soon must fall:

That relic of a bygone age

Now tottering to decay,

Has but one friend—the ivy—left.

The rest have passed away.

The fairy flowers that once did bloom

And smile beneath its shade;

They lingered till the autumn came,

And autumn saw them fade:

The emerald leaves that blushed between—

The winds away have blown;

But yet to cheer the mournful scene,

The ivy liveth on.

Thus heavenly hope will still survive,

When earthly joys have fled;

And all the flow’ry dreams of youth

Lie withering and dead.

When Winter comes—it twines itself

Around the human heart;

And like the ivy on the wall

Will ne’er from thence depart.

Henry Kendall

Ivy Lore and Superstion

2011-10-03T03:44:00.000-07:00

Ivy has long symbolized growth, rebirth and resurrection, the continual return to life. It is one of the two sacred plants that grows spirally; the other is the Vine. Together they represent the cycles of life. The spiral the double spiral in particular) is a symbol of reincarnation. It represents the rebirth of all souls.

Holly is a male plant and ivy is the female. There is great wisdom in ivy, and it is one of the plants most sacred to the Goddess because it symbolizes fertility and grows in a spiral, one of the goddess' symbols. The Celts associated Ivy with Arianrhod.

The Ivy is also seen as a plant of the Otherworld. It symbolizes healing, protection, love, fidelity, cooperation and exorcism.Wherever it is grown or strewn, it guards against negativity and disaster. The power of the Ivy to cling and bind made it a potent symbol of determination and strength.

Welsh ghosts take various forms, and the most favorite of these is the Green Lady who is said to be haunting the Caerphilly ruins. According to an old legend, the Caerphilly Castle in South Wales is said to be haunted by a ghost known as the Green Lady. It is said that she haunts ruined castles in her human form , but, like the Green Man of the forest, hides herself as ivy when she is not walking through the ruined castles she haunts.

Use ivy in fidelity and love charms. One old tradition was to give ivy and holly to newlyweds as good luck charms. Women carried ivy to aid fertility and to ensure fidelity. From this came the custom of brides carrying ivy.

Living in the midst of a time when a thousand superstitions prevailed everywhere concerning plants, their origin, magic powers, it is only natural that there are countless superstitions about this plant. A few of these old
superstitions follow:

It is said that a man will have prophetic dreams that show his wife to be if he takes 10 ivy leaves that were picked on Samhain and places them under his pillow.

The female wishing to know the identity of her future husband should press a leaf against her heart and repeat:

"Ivy, ivy, I love you,

In my bosom I put you,

The first young man who speaks to me,

My future husband he shall be".

Living in the midst of a time when a thousand superstitions prevailed everywhere concerning plants, their origin, magic powers, it is only natural that there are countless superstitions about this plant. A few of these oldsuperstitions follow:

If it grows on a house you may have wealth.

If ivy is growing on a friends house in your dream, then they may have good health.

And an Irish belief is that an ivy leaf placed in water in a covered dish between New Year's and Old Christmas will foretell the future. If the leaf remains green, good health will surely follow. But, should it become spotted, you can expect sickness, or even death.

If you dream of a potted ivy plant you will have happiness.

In England it was once believed that if ivy refused to grow on a grave it meant that the soul was unhappy in its other world.

If it flourished on a young girls grave, it meant she died of unrequited love.

Celtic Tree Month of Ivy

2011-09-30T03:47:00.000-07:00

Under the ivy bush

One sits sighing,

And under the willow tree

One sits crying: -

Under the ivy bush

Cease from your sighing,

But under the willow-tree

Lie down a-dying.

--Christina Georgina Rossetti--

September 30-October 27

Several different kinds of climbing or creeping plants are known by the name of ivy, an evergreen vine that can either ramble or climb. Ivy attaches itself to stone, brick, concrete and other surfaces as well as to trees that are dead or living. It loves to grow in spirals, up and around things. It climbs by way of small tendrils that grow from the vine. A hardy plant, it does well under difficult conditions, in poor soil, and will thrive in both sun and shade.

Without proper care, ivy can become an aggressive invader that threatens all vegetation. Its dense growth and abundant leaves will form a thick canopy just above the ground which prevents sunlight from reaching other plants. Similarly, the vines climbing up tree trunks spread out and surround branches and twigs, preventing most of the sunlight from reaching the leaves of the host tree, eventually killing it.

English ivy is an attractive plant that can be quite toxic to humans and animals if it is eaten in large enough quantities. The berries of English ivy are very poisonous to children. Poison ivy is another plant which can be quite harmful to humans and animals. Ground ivy is a weed that grows low to the ground and spreads out in a sprawl of leaves. Medicinally, it has been used for toothaches, but it, too, is toxic in large amounts.