Folk-Songs of Britanny
Folk-Songs of Britanny
Folk-Songs of Britanny
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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026878870
FOLK-SONGS
OF BRITTANY
me,
'
who
sail in
Or dwell by
shall be.
Cornell University Library
PB 2931.E9B74
"
FOLK-S O N G S OF BRITTANY
Selections from TH:fioDORE Botrel's
in
Breton
<^
New
Haven, Conn.
Copyright, igi8
BY
Elizabeth
S.
Dickerman
CONTENTS
Page
Song of
the Country
Golden Fleece
Blacksmith
3 5
Broken Thread
8
10
12
Welcome
of the Bells
Bobosse
14 16
19 21
The Little Guardians of the Light The Great Cradles The Widow's Son The Miser We Have a Little Daughter The Washerwomen At the Shrine of St. Guirec The Dance of the Korrigans
Against the
23
24 26
29
30
32
Wind
The Derelict The Watch , On, Little Mate The Sea Wind
Sail,
34 36
38
:
.':
40
42 43
My
Plough, Sail
Deep
in the
Woods
45
is
Like a Clock
My
Heart
Beating
47 48
5
53
54
55
Christmas Lullaby
Sleep,
Grandmamma Arvor
56
The
gallant
little
lad
Tanguy
Would go Come
The
For
to sea.
Rolling away.
rolling not at all cared he,
Nor
pitching sea.
little
son.
say.
And then there came a mermaid gay To where he lay. And clasped him in her arms with glee.
How
lovely she!
Her own!
Her
palace 'neath the ocean gray
fair alway,
sea.
Was
The
Great
Swam
He
fell in
All in a day,
And
say,
He
By
sings a lay,
Dreams
of his
home
in Brittany
rolling sea.
The sailors hear his song and stay Nor haste away. Charmed to a grave beneath the sea. The pitching sea Where we ourselves shall soon be gone,
Lured on!
So sweet
to exiles
is
that lay
When
By
far away.
Brittany,
to hear
its
tone.
Breton
lyric.
With
With
When
And the brightness on her head Brought back the sunset gay.
Alas
!
we
shall see
no more
to come.
The
fairy
who used
I
This morn
By
her cottage
home
little
With
close cropped
Like a boy or a
head gnome.
"What
false,
unfriendly queen.
What
Hanging
royally,
And
With
Said
the precious
clear,
little
soul
ingenuous eyes.
hair,
"My
Madame,
Dame
for a prize.
"For all the winter long Mother was very ill. We had no money left To pay the doctor's bill, And the medicine he gave
Was
"So
even costlier
still.
my
the
At
Pardon
I sold,
And
But
Ten crowns
Who
I
me
of old.
am
still
content
!"
Made
As
of a saint.
THE BLACKSMITH
My little
Soon
forge
is
alight
tone.
To
all.
Blow, bellows, a rhythmic tune Like a giant piper alone, Blow on, on, on My hammer shall dance to it soon.
Of workmen no need
I feel,
Hammers my
little
Emile.
Like a curly lamb is the boy sweet as the young Saint JohnBut on, on, on Trust to him no fragile toy
And
to the
work.
is
done.
on
My
When
Morning
to eve, of course,
And after the day was done, Men cried, "Come on!
Blacksmith, shoe
my
horse
!"
From
An
The
odor gladly
known
smoking hoof.
Alas
the mechanics
come
life is
And
the
work of my
on, on,
gone.
Wait
There
is
on
nothing to do at
home
yon.
on
And
But hush
no
idle oath.
be won.
And
Where the white-hot anvils Our ancestors, little son, Worked on, on, on
Their trade shall
A better
Work
'Tis
is
on, on,
all
on
worthy
our powers.
to
me,
Though The
rude, as
many own.
tight.
hour come
go
soon or
Son,
late.
When we
He has promised
little
true-
on,
on
ass to shoe
And
As our blows
one by one.
And
moon
To
As
the
humming
sound.
Thinking of
my
secret love,
the v^rheel
went round.
hair,"
"Little
Know, I love thee dearly." One more turn the wheel shall move,
Whirring, whirring round.
Then
I'll tell
my
secret love
To
I will
its
humming
sound.
say:
And
One more
Then
my
:
secret love
To
its
humming
her
sound.
I will tell
"Dearest heart,
One more
Then
thy candid spirit." turn the wheel shall move, Whirring, whirring round.
I'll tell
And
my
secret love
To
its
humming
sound.
I will tell
her:
bell
After Christmas day." One last turn the wheel shall move, Whirring, whirring round.
Then
I'll tell
my
secret love
To
its
humming
her
all
sound.
care,
I will tell
my
All
my
thoughts unspoken
But
turned the wheel too far And the thread was broken.
I
For the
I
last
When
Acting thus unkindly. Like a devil did I spring, Sought the door behind me. Taking Thank you, wheel, enow. Whirring, whirring roimd Both my secret and the blow
And
In
the
humming
sound.
Happiness, as
full
Hangs but by a
Listen to
my
telling.
Turn
And you
are free.
my
village
tower
Looking for me every hour Over hill and meadow. Yonder is my village tower Looking for me every hour.
All at once
it
sees
me
come.
Hears
my
laughter ringing,
Knows me
glad to be at home, Running, madly singing. All at once it sees me come. Singing, glad to be at home.
All the bells will ring in turn.
steeple
my
glad return
To
Tidings of
my
glad return.
"This
is Yann of Ker-Yvon, (Hear them ringing faster) Who a sailor-boy had gone
And
This
is
Yann
of
Who,
a sailor-boy,
me !"
Wind and
wintry weather.
Thinking of this love of thine And the walks together. Round the world in storm and shine, Thinking of this love of thine.
glad return
the beauty.
Now
be
What
Sweet
wedding there
shall
be
chiming pleasantly
From
At
me
Sweet bells chiming pleasantly. This the song they sing to me.
Little
Of
Come,
my
little
maiden, come.
Long may
Sweet
All
live
to labor, dear,
my
Then
to die in Brittany,
Still
Growing
by
thee.
His mother, to rock the child to sleep, Made him a hammock nice and new.
Made
it
Out of
Never a blanket or crib had he, But his slumbers were sweeter and sounder too For having hollowed his nest in glee In the soft mesh of the netting blue.
At night he
said a
little
prayer.
it
flew.
"Virgin Mary,
Mother
fair,
When
his father,
upon the
pier,
Lingered to talk with a fishing-crew. The little son ran quickly near And gathered an armful of fish-nets blue.
Bearing them home to the
little cot.
He hung them
Helping him find each broken knot. As he deftly mended the fish-nets blue.
At
twelve,
grown
i
straight as a
little tree.
With
He
With the older sailors of the crew, Ran to aid them at every wish, And worked upon the fish-nets blue.
But
his fishing-vessel
Sailing as she
Was
caught one night by the raging sea Like a little fish in a netting blue.
the stars
it
When
God saw
bright,
sweet with dew. After dreams too lovely to understand. All in the midst of the fish-nets blue.
veils, all
my
mother dear
fear.
And
Thanks
Working and praying as sailors do. Has had draughts of fishes without end,
Almost
to breaking his nets of blue.
13
BOBOSSE
All round and pink the babe
was born,
But on the happy christening morn, Some ugly fairy, old and cross.
Was
quite forgot,
who
angrily
Gave the poor child a hump, you see. So that men called the boy Bobosse,
Little Bobosse.
When
That he was
from the
rest
And asked his mother "Tell me why I am not strong and straight as they.
The
For
little
they.
Mamma,
as I."
are not as
I,
Are not
His mother, weeping in her heart, Comforted him with gentle art And told him strange and wondrous things. "Weep not. To fly to heaven so. White little wings begin to grow My darhng baby, angels' wings.
Yes, angels' wings."
And
"It
To
But here
man,
Httle
man."
14
At
sixteen years
it
was
his lot
To
love a maid
who
seemed
to be a part
Of
that, his
sad deformity.
he.
So hurt was
Sadly he mourned and suffered so That Death had pity on his woe And took him from the bitter scene.
Lo, at his death, a prodigy
mysteriously.
A miracle
Poor mother with the sorrowing
heart.
Thy lad is happy for his part. Be calm and cease thy raurmurings. As once thou saidst in days gone by,
Bobosse has flown into the sky. Spreading at last his angels' wings, His snow-white wings.
IS
The keeper
What
ails
him
at this
hour?
Man
What
ails
of the light.
thee at this hour?
And
falls
"Alas for us
Slipping
My doom
I
know.
life.
My doom
Slipping
know.
life."
rise
roar,
lies,
Among
All
he
lies
Among
"Mamma," they cried, "the night And we must light the lamp.
The night
is
is
here
here
And we must
The widow
There
in the
darkened room.
that tries
To
The Eye
that tries
To
And when the Ught would clearly burn, Came down and knelt to pray. "Mamma, Mamma, it does not turn
In quite the usual way.
It
And
"Alas
light
up
all
the bay.
To mend
Nor put
it
back
till
Death came by
And
And
"But
if
Death came by
With the tide upon our coast. The fishing-boats that wander by Sweep shoreward and are lost. They wander by. Sweep shoreward and are lost."
to the light," she cried, "my sons. Though sorrow is in our home. Lend me your arms, my little ones.
"Up
To
turn
till
morning come.
ones,
Turn,
little
And
it
And
To
let
our father
sleep.
We turn
let
the light
Then when
grew gray
And calm was the restless sea, To their father's side they crept away And slumbered quietly.
They
crept
away
And
slumbered quietly.
Or on
the
waves did
ride,
lips,
And
they say,
Told of the father's pride. His smile, they say. Told of the father's pride.
Little sons of Brittany,
never a fear
The
Shall not
waver nor go
it
out.
here.
That
go out.
i8
What good
naps
we used
to
have
in the wall!
called,
Now the
Taken us from home away. Our three-masters on the sea Rock like giant cradles they
Rocking constantly.
Cradles of the deep
Bound for farthest sea. Each poor sailor-lad. Homesick for his folk
Cradle of strong oak,
Proud three-master
at the dock,
You may
When
And
Savagely
rend the
side,
Rock us
tenderly.
Cradles of renown.
When
May
Bravely
we go down.
Rock us
off to sleep.
19
Lo, full
passed,
rolled away,
We
While within the hollow ships were rocked to sleep each day. Favoring winds have sped us on,
is
Brittany
very near.
And
its
Cradle
now our
hope.
be.
Of our
hills
we
see.
Loves for
whom we
yearn
30
Where
Facing an endless watery waste Where meet the sea and sky,
day.
Upon
Lies
a seaweed bed,
little
He
The
Soundly he slumbers
last of all
little
her fold.
Strong as a
man
is
he
Though but
a ten-year-old.
To stamp upon his youthful heart The terror of the wave, The widow chose to dwell apart Where the wild waters rave.
When
Hurls
power
at that hour.
"Come
And
The
now
moans
And hungers
evermore.
Down
Thy
"How
beautiful
!"
he
sighs.
"Nay, hark not to her siren voice,' She says in whisper low. "In ways one cannot understand She lures men on to woe.
With her
deceitful, elfish ways She won thy brothers true." The widow's son mused silently: "Soon I am going too."
THE MISER
To
fill
his
Lived but on meagre crusts of bread. Drank water from the village well. Now he is rich, and well may buy The finest bread fresh made of wheat. But for the dainty long put by. He has no teeth with which to eat
Like an old wolf in lonely cave.
He lived all comfortless, and lay On the hard ground, nor did he have
Now
Aught but a scanty bed of hay. that his aged form may lie
In a fine bed built in the wall,
Wild nightmares wake him constantly. The miser has no rest at all.
No wife had he, nor daughter fair. No son to stir a father's pride;
His only love, gold coins that shine. His hope, to lay the gold aside.
In vain Love knocks upon his door
And seeks his stony heart to move. Nothing can ever charm him more. His heart is dead. He cannot love.
He
Nor
No
prayers
call blessings
Nor
shall his
Among
Friends,
Poorest of
let
he.
us
live,
WE HAVE A
We
LITTLE DAUGHTER
little
have a
daughter,
her
And
began you will, whene'er lad your Marry you can! daughter when Your
straight his suit
Of
many,
Youp
But very
la la larira.
rich,
not any
Youp
la la larira.
And
Marry your lad whene'er you will, Your daughter when you may!
And
yet
poor,
little
daughter,
Youp
la la larira.
How
gently
we have
taught her
Youp
la la larira,
man
Marry your lad whene'er you will. Your daughter vuhen you can!
Sweet
is
the
maid and
'Tis pity
pretty,
Youp Youp
la la larira.
Industrious.
la la larira.
That she the bills must pay! Marry your lad whene'er you will. Your daughter when you may!
24
husband
^Am
dreaming?
all
Youp
la la larira
On
strike?
Yes, to
la la larira
seeming,
Youp
Marry your lad whene'er you will, Your daughter when you may!
But when
I
Youp
I
la la larira
Youp
la la larira.
"Wilt thou? I will! Away!" Marry your lad whene'er you will, Your daughter when you may!
Youp
la la larira.
Youp la la larira. Nor any market-day Marry your lad whene'er you will, Your daughter when you may!
I
25
THE WASHERWOMEN
Crouched down upon the rock
On lowly bended knee. But oh, the frightful words we hear Are for the Evil One, I fear. Beat on the linen, beat!
The
gossip's idle tongue
away more fleet As they beat more fleet Than the washing goes along.
Clatters
One says "Oh, have you seen The Hnen of Madame Kostel,
:
Lace-trimmed
like
an altarpiece
And
very
fine as well?
I
suppose.
this splendor
knows."
Beat on the
Clatters
linen, beat
away more fleet As they beat more fleet Than the washing goes along.
Another
cries
"Now
see
As
So,
think, this
cut-work might
!"
26
Beat on the
linen, beat!
The
Clatters
away more
fleet
that secretly
babies' lingerie
linen, beat!
!"
Beat on the
The
Clatters
away more
fleet
And
the buyer does not guess." Beat on the linen, beat The gossip's idle tongue
Clatters away more fleet As they beat more fleet Than the washing goes along.
Rose,
candle-ends
saving up,
27
my
friends
!"
Beat on the
linen, beat!
The
Clatters away more fleet As they beat more fleet Than the washing goes along.
fear
That some day you will be Washing nightly by the spring Where you now sit gossiping. Beat on the linen, beat! When Death shall come along, You may hear him on the street,
Rap, rap, rap
!
more
fleet
Than
28
AT THE SHRINE OF
An
ST.
GUIREC
and a chapel
To St. Guirec as well. And there the maidens, going To play a tender part,
Stick pins both sharp and shining
The lad for whom I'm sighing Has heart as hard to break As the oaken heart they're trying Of Monsieur St. Guirec.
Last Sunday
I
My
And
coif of
fine
And my
With
embroidered apron
steel pins
fell
new and
from
bright.
each pin
my
fingers
Swiftly as they did move, As at the feet of my lover Falls my poor, slighted love. The lad for whom I'm sighing Has heart as hard to break As the oaken heart they're trying Of Monsieur St. Guirec.
But,
my
alarm beholding,
From
The pin I drew out bleeding Through some miraculous art, The forgetful one shall feel it,
Piercing his hardened heart. I shall see unsighing If his heart is more hard to break Than the oaken heart they're trying Of Monsieur St. Guirec.
And
29
Calm profound, one churchbell far away The midnight hour shall sound. Then upon the stillness deep
Breaks a fearsome din. Bretons, hark! The Korrigans Now their dance begin. Down by the sanddunes gray
Where
The Korrigans
lightly go,
Circling, dancing to
and
fro,
Where
Would
Blaspheming the good God's name, When the golden-haired Annik, Seeking her lover gone. Came on the dancing elves,
Lost in their maze alone. Down by the sanddunes gray
Where
The Korrigans
lightly go.
Circling, dancing to
and
fro.
Where
30
And
dawn
of day.
Maidens of Brittany.
Nor go when
the
moon
shines bright
To
Where
The Korrigans
lightly go.
Circling, dancing to
and
fro.
Where
grow
31
breeze,
By many
a tack
On
stormy seas
is
going,
We
Hard
And hope by
steady rowing
mate.
A little
lead
gain to find.
!
my
The moment
back.
seize.
How
On
very slowly
we come
At last we reach the landing, Then make her fast, and go. With other sailors standing.
To
here.
Then
come back.
Another tack
And
favoring seas.
32
it,
Tide.
On
come back
By
skilful tack
33
THE DERELICT
Toward the treacherous coast, Where Love's kingdom lay,
My
heart,
madly
its
lost.
Steered
My
Has
heart,
lost its
On
From
the shore it seems Vanished quite away. My heart, gone astray. Has lost its way.
No
helm nor
sail
of white
Nor
a pilot.
Nay,
light
of day.
My
Has
heart,
lost its
it,
say!
My
Has
heart,
lost its
Take them
all
to her
love
was
play.
astray.
way.
34
Say
I
found
this
wreck
afloat
gay.
^S
THE WATCH
High on the mast Watchman, Ahoy
/ cannot die
Art still alive ? and leave the ship While she with wind and wave must
!
strive.
Watchman, Ahoy
The
light has
come.
Canst see beyond the winds that blow ? Naught can I see hut drifting fog
And
the great
waves
Watchman, Ahoy! Is that the shore Rising upon the windward side?
/ only see the billows break,
tide.
Watchman, dost
see
no
cliff arise
On
Naught see I but the tidal wave. Hear but the sea's exulting song.
Seest not, emerging from the gloom. White flocks that feed in pastures green? The white waves leaping on the sea Are all the sheep that I have seen.
Watchman,
alas
The end
is
near.
Come down,
that
we
together die!
bell rings clear.
Down
on your knees.
56
To Heaven
cry.
hour?
The pointed
Can
it
be Spain or Africa
That the mad wind has driven us by? The bell-tower is in Brittany
And
o'er
it
Thanks,
Alas
lad.
Thy
vigil
now
is
o'er.
Watchman, Ahoy!
!
he spoke no answering word. His task was done, his mission past.
aloft to bring him down, found the Breton boy. Stiff with the hunger and the cold But sailors say he died of joy.
They climbed
And
lifeless
Watchman, a noble end was thine. Thrice happy he of whom they tell
He
Having done
37
ON, LITTLE
MATE
Throughout our France, in every part. Thousands of httle lads there be. Who have one cherished hope at heart.
To
be a sailor
little
free.
On,
As
poplar
shalt
tree.
Learn
first at
Then thou
go to
sea.
is o'er,
Down
To
to the waterside
On,
tide.
Early and
When
All
thou shalt go to
sea.
sun
That ripen one by one. On, little mate! And do not wait But climb the apple tree.
The topmast
thou'lt
cHmb
easily
When
They take
thou shalt go to
sea.
And
fill
On,
little
mate!
it
And
The
If
drink
straight.
will
come
village
He must
leave
Mamma
and the
home
Nor
And,
hesitate
When
she says
Goodby
to thee.
lest
When On
And
thou shalt go to
make
thee bold.
old.
On,
Httle
mate!
Nor
Work
Then
Ever within thy breast shall beat loyal heart and strong. Be the honor of our country's fleet Sweeter than living long. On, little mate! Though danger wait. France calls her children free. Return not to thy family Till thou win her praise at sea.
39
How
Is
it
grave
it is,
Goodby said o'er and o'er. From some dead sailor with the
it
"Is
my
"He
told
me when he
sailed
away:
Was
"Nay,
'tis
my
says.
To
If
has passed.
Oh, let us quickly kneel and pray, That the strong wind may take the words To the dear lost one far away."
" 'Tis
"My
my Yannik," the maiden cries, promised one, the lad who went
Wind,
Knows he is dead, and weeps and prays, Vowing to live a cloistered nun And love but God through all her days."
So each one thought
herself alone
To know
all alike.
But oh, all three were For on that night the greedy Sea Took three brave sailors unaware, One on the Banks, off Iceland one, The other, God knows where!
right, alas
the door.
How
The
last
grave
it is
it
cind sad
and sweet
o'er.
Goodby
whispers
41
SAIL,
MY PLOUGH,
any
SAIL
All secrets well I know, which the deep sea doth keep,
No
mystery
I find in
is it
life ashore.
The furrow,
Nay
more.
wave
On
Over
Sail,
and
dale.
Plough,
my
gallant boat.
my
plough, sail!
The
After
my
prayers to God,
My
Of
my
On
Over
Sail,
and
dale.
Plough,
my
gallant boat.
sail
my
plough,
My
To
life is for
them
both,
and
to
them both
I cling.
me
at last?
Or
my
lonely
dream
On
Over
Sail,
and
dale,
Plough,
my
gallant boat,
sail
my
plough,
42
was but a
little lad,
And
I
Deep
woods
'tis
To dream
There
full
The
For
How
Deep
thrushes sing.
in the
woods
'tis
To
Young Madelon, not fearing wolves. Would often come with me. Her auburn hair and eyes of green
Deep
Shone very pleasantly. in the woods 'tis sweet, sweet, sweet, To have a maid with thee.
eve with tender word
One summer
I
We
promised to be lovers true a faithful vow. "Deep in the woods," we said, "how sweet To love as we do now !"
With many
And
then
went away
to sea
In service to the
state.
Three years passed by and I was free Nor longer had to wait. Deep in the woods 'tis gay, gay, gay. To find one's little mate
43
the bell was tolling slow With mournful note and deep. The neighbors laid my love away
Alas
In the
last
solemn
sleep.
Deep
sweet, sweet,
44
alight
We hear
From
the night,
seeming.
is
he.
We
cricket, cheerily.
Black
little
Nestling
down
Blow on thy
ways
city.
From morn
But when one moves to the far off Leaving the furrow carelessly.
Weep, little cricket, full of pity. "The barns might be full" be this thy ditty "But who will harvest the grain to be ?" Weep, little cricket, mournfully.
On
To
Say
fine.
all
him: "All
Bows
Though
And
choke
little
glee.
Grind,
cricket, ceaselessly.-
45
Long
live thy
Bard of the city and the field. For the song of hate with its savage strain, Give a song of brotherhood saved and healed.
May thy music bring its message cheering To hearts made sour by calamity.
Dream,
little cricket,
Dream and
Chirp,
little cricket,
46
LIKE A CLOCK
MY HEART
my
its
IS
BEATING
To my
touch
heart
is
telling
Like a clock
secrets telling,
throbs
its
greeting
Very
softly o'er
and
o'er.
is
Like a clock
my
heart
beating
Like a clock
I feel it
beating
eye.
it
by.
my
heart
beating,
Like a clock I feel it beating At the sweetness of thy kiss, Like a clock my heart is beating. Mad with ecstasy and bliss.
Like a clock my heart is beating, It must break to beat like this
Like a clock
my
heart
stop
is
beating
die.
Which would
47
As dainty as a bride's bouquet, Are flowering in the April light. Lo all our apple trees are gay. The little petals gently fall
!
Within the high gray orchard wall Where good Queen Anne still sees them grow.
The
little
Like a
light
snow-storm covering
is
all.
Our
Soon
Brittany
clothed in snow.
as the
month of June
shall close
When
The buckwheat fields, at first all rose, Are snowy white one summer day.
Light
In
little
blossoms covering
all
fields
(Our good Queen Anne still sees thern grow) The little blossoms covering all. Like crystals that from Heaven fall,
Clothe Brittany in white like snow.
When
Wraps
nature
all in
misty white,
meadow, garden, stony wall, (Where good Queen Anne still guards, we know) Myriads of moonbeams thronging all, Like snowy flakes that swiftly fall.
Show
Brittany
all
clothed in snow.
48
The flakes seem petals on our brow. Upon a carven granite throne Our Brittany is queen alone. Autumn and winter, summer, spring,
Proudly she reigns throughout the year, And, like the queen we love to sing,
The
royal ermine
still
doth wear.
49
MOTHER EARTH
Oh
come, good friends, and sing a song.
With
To Mother
Earth,
And
little
Soon
as the
(Sing to the Earth) We leave our beds and haste away, (Sing to the Earth) Thinking of John-the-Grain-of-Wheat.
the cold,
Drive a deep furrow in the mould, (Sing to the Earth) To cradle John-the-Grain-of-Wheat. Sing to our kindly Earth, Mother-of-Bread so sweet.
When Goodman
And
Winter comes
in sight,
Above
gay.
Who
venttores?
John-the-Grain-of-Wheat.
Lying
(Sing to the Earth) Warmed by the sunshine, see him start, (Sing to the Earth) And ripen John-the-Grain-of-Wheat.
With
How
(Sing to the Earth) proud is John-the-Grain-of-Wheat! Sing to the kindly Earth, Mother-of-Bread so sweet.
Now
comes
Reaped
is
he.
Sad
lot for
John-the-Grain-of - Wheat
that he dies?
(Sing to the Earth) Within three days shall he not (Sing to the Earth)
rise,
To
live
again in John-the-Bread ?
Mother of John-the-Bread.
This
is
my
friend
To whom
the universe
must bend,
(Sing to the Earth) His Highness, John-the-Bread-of-Wheat. Sing to our kindly Earth,
Mother-of-Bread so sweet.
soil
Through
all
men
o'er the
Thy
Thy
children, John-the-Grain-of-Wheat,
YE SHEPHERDS GAY
Carol
Awaken now, ye
Leave your white
shepherds gay!
flocks to stray
On
Comes slowly
in to-night.
Across the moors, follow from far The shepherds' guiding star.
Young shepherds, barefoot, hatless Were first to come that day Where little Jesus lay.
Then followed Wise Men from
In gold and silver dressed.
!
they
the East
everyone
lie.
At
the
name
of God's
Son
Conquered by
At Christmas, with
How
sweet
it is
to love
S3
watching earth and dreaming heaven, Great snowflakes falling silently Then, far away, a signal given
By
bells of
midnight cheerily.
silvery bell
Hearken! the
And
Who
To
tell,
their Christmas
chime?
Not one!
Each in turn, farther and nearer, Angels were singing long ago.
In the tones of the
bells,
We
float
Hearken! the
silvery bell
And
Who
To
tell.
their Christmas
chime?
Not one!
Before the newborn Babe low bending. Shepherds and kings are rivals there. The songs of the bells and the angels blending
Call
And
Who
To
tell,
their Christmas
chime?
Not one!
Down from
Oh, let us learn to love one another, Help one another in His name. Hearken the silvery bell
!
And
Who
To
tell.
their Christmas
54
chime?
Not one!
A CHRISTMAS LULLABY
Little
Claude and Claudinet, Christmas brings a loaf of bread. Sleeping, hunger flies away.
Sleep and dream that you are fed. Lullaby! Jesus too,
Mary and He
to eat than we.
little
Had no more
Where no
In our humble,
room
Chilly blasts are quite at home. Icy Northwind comes and goes. Lullaby! Jesus too,
Htimbly lay
Upon
!
the hay.
deep.
my
tender song.
children, sleep.
my
little
And
Lullaby
I
tenderness.
Glad to bless
Wicked men
and
slay.
cries-
That
He who now
in
manger
lies
SLEEP,
GRANDMAMMA ARVOR
hearths smokes in the stillness vast
The Angelus of eve its clearest notes has Our Brittany, another day is past.
Sleep, sleep, sweet
rung.
Grandmamma
rest.
Arvor,*
Our Thy
dear one,
Sleep
The guardians
of thy rest
blest.
is
spread.
God
Bathing thy dusty feet in the cool ocean wave. Upon the Cotes du Nord pillowing thy weary head.
Sleep
!
Sleep
In vain some jealous souls will say thine end has come.
Thy
Thy
Sleep
children, full of pride, thy songs
Sleep
sips
Thy
Sleep
Thy hardy
sailors
still sail
On
*
Sleep
Sleep
for Brittany.
An
old
name
S6
The envious and the bad, what can they do to Land of the mighty soul and granite brow?
Sleep
thee,
As thou
we
will struggle
now
liberty.
Grandmamma
Arvor,
Our Thy
When
The world
blest.
.S7
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