1. |
Hymn of Pan
02:30
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From the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the reeds and the rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle bushes,
The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass,
Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,
Listening to my sweet pipings.
Liquid Peneus was flowing,
And all dark Tempe lay
In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing
The light of the dying day,
Speeded by my sweet pipings.
The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,
And the Nymphs of the woods and the waves,
To the edge of the moist river-lawns,
And the brink of the dewy caves,
And all that did then attend and follow,
Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo,
With envy of my sweet pipings.
I sang of the dancing stars,
I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven, and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Birth—
And then I chang'd my pipings,
Singing how down the vale of Maenalus
I pursu'd a maiden and clasp'd a reed.
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus!
It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed.
All wept, as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood,
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.
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2. |
Rolling of the Stones
03:57
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“Will you go to the rolling of the stones
Or the dancing of the ball?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie
And dance among them all?”
Will you go to the rolling of the stones
Or the dancing of the ball?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie
Dance among them all?
“I will not go to the rolling of the stones
Or the tossing of the ball,
But I will go and see pretty Susie
And dance among them all.”
“Will you drink of the blood,
The white wine and the red?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie
When that I am dead?”
They hadn't danced but a single dance
More than twice around
Before the sword at her true love's side
Gave him his fatal wound.
They picked him up and carried him away,
For he was sore distressed.
They buried him all in the greenwoods
Where he was wont to rest.
Pretty Susie she came a-wandering by
With a tablet under her arm,
Until she came to her true love's grave
And she began to charm.
She charmed the fish out of the sea
And the birds out of their nests,
She charmed her true love out of his grave
So he could no longer rest.
“Will you go to the rolling of the stones
Or the dancing of the ball?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie
And dance among them all?”
“I will not go to the rolling of the stones
Or the tossing of the ball
But I will go and see pretty Susie
And dance among them all."
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3. |
Cruel Lincoln
03:38
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Says the lord to the lady, “I am now going out,
Beware of cruel Lincoln whilst I am gone out.”
“What cares I for Lincoln or any of his kin,
My doors are all bolted, my windows are pinned.”
As soon as the lord had got out of sight
Cruel Lincoln crept in at the middle of the night.
Got and pinched my sweet baby which caused it to cry,
Whilst the nurse sat a-singing, “Oh, hush-a-lullaby.”
“Oh nurse, oh nurse, how sound do you sleep,
Whilst my little baby most bitterly does weep?”
“Oh Lady, dear Lady, come and take it in your lap,
For I cannot quiet it with milk nor with pap.”
The lady came down, not thinking any harm.
Cruel Lincoln stood a-waiting for to catch her in his arms.
“Oh Lincoln, cruel Lincoln, spare my life for one hour.
You shall have my daughter Betsy, who is thy blood's flower.”
“Go and fetch your daughter Betsy. She will do very well
To hold up this silver basin for to catch her mother's blood.”
There was blood in the kitchen, there was blood in the hall;
There was blood in the parlour where the lady did fall.
As soon as the lord had heard what was done,
Tears from his eyes gently flowed.
Saying, “The nurse shall be hanged on the gallows so high.
Cruel Lincoln shall be burned in the fire close by.”
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4. |
Edward
04:54
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“What's that blood all on your sword?
My Son, come tell to me.”
“It is the blood of my own grey hound,
He wouldn't run with me, with me,
He wouldn't run with me.”
“It is too pale for your greyhound's blood,
My Son, come tell to me.”
“It is the blood of my own grey mare,
He wouldn't hunt with me, with me,
He wouldn't hunt with me.”
“It is too red for your grey mare's blood,
My Son, come tell to me.”
“Well, it's the blood of me own dear brother,
He wouldn't ride with me, with me,
He wouldn't ride with me.”
“And what were you quarrelling about?
My Son, come tell to me.”
“It was about a little holly bush
That might have been a tree, a tree,
It might have made a tree.”
“And what will you do when your father he comes home?
My Son, come tell to me.”
“O I'll set sail in a little sailing boat,
I'll sail across the sea, the sea,
I'll sail across the sea.”
“And what will you do with your pretty little wife?
My Son, come tell to me.”
“O she'll sail along in my little sailing boat,
She'll sail along with me, with me,
She'll sail along with me.”
“And what will you do with your eldest son?
My Son, come tell to me.”
“O I'll leave him here for you to raise,
Rock upon your knee, your knee,
To rock upon your knee.”
“And when will you come back again?
My Son, come tell to me.”
When the sun and the moon there on yonder hill,
I know that will never be,
Know that will never never be.”
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5. |
Unquiet Grave
04:15
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“Cold blows the wind over my true love,
Cold blows the drops of rain,
I never had but one true love
In the Greenwood she lies slain.
“I'll do as much for my true love
As any young man may,
I'll sit and weep down by her grave
For twelve months and a day.”
When twelve months they were past and gone
My sweet love she arose:
“What makes you sit by my grave and weep?
I can't take my rest!”
“One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips,
One kiss is all I crave.
One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips,
Then leave back to your grave.”
“These lips they are as cold as clay,
My breath is heavy and strong.
if you were to kiss these lily-white lips
Your life would not be long.
"Do you remember the garden grove,
Where once we used to walk?
Go pick the finest flower of them all,
It will wither to a stalk.
“Fetch me a flower from a dungeon deep,
Bring water from a stone.
Bring white milk from a virgin's breast
That baby never bore none.”
“Dig me a grave both wide and deep,
Dig as quick as you may.
That I may lay me down to sleep
For twelve months and a day.”
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Tithe Vancouver, British Columbia
Reawakening in 2020 after over a decade, TITHE conjures a raw and haunting dark folk, exploring the hidden, inmost essence. Extracting inspiration from World Serpent's glory days and the lush largesse of 2000s neofolk luminaries, Tithe has traversed the Abyss to transmute the bloody ashes of the past into a fresh vision of Spiritual gold. ... more
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