Loreena Mckennitt

A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
It's there that my heart is calling
All for the love of youA painting hangs on an ivy
Nestled in the emerald moss
The eyes declare a truce of trust
And then it draws me far away
Where deep in the desert twilight
Sand melts in pools of the sky
When darkness lays her crimson cloak
Your lamps will call me homeAnd so it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
And now I feel you move
Every breath is full
So it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
Even the distance feels so near
All for the love of you

A farmer there lived in the north country
a hey ho bonny o
And he had daughters one, two, three
The swans swim so bonny o
These daughters they walked by the river's brim
a hey ho bonny o
The eldest pushed the youngest in
The swans swim so bonny oOh sister, oh sister, pray lend me your hand
with a hey ho a bonny o
And I will give you house and land
the swans swim so bonny o
I'll give you neither hand nor glove
with a hey ho a bonny o
Unless you give me your own true love
the swans swim so bonny oSometimes she sank, sometimes she swam
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Until she came to a miller's dam
the swans swim so bonny oThe miller's daughter, dressed in red
with a hey ho and a bonny o
She went for some water to make some bread
the swans swim so bonny oOh father, oh daddy, here swims a swan
with a hey ho and a bonny o
It's very like a gentle woman
the swans swim so bonny o
They placed her on the bank to dry
with a hey ho and a bonny o
There came a harper passing by
the swans swim so bonny oHe made harp pins of her fingers fair
with a hey ho and a bonny o
He made harp strings of her golden hair
the swans swim so bonny o
He made a harp of her breast bone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play alone
the swans swim so bonny oHe brought it to her father's hall
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And there was the court, assembled all
the swans swim so bonny o
He laid the harp upon a stone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play lone
the swans swim so bonny oAnd there does sit my father the King
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And yonder sits my mother the Queen
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my brother Hugh
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And by him William, sweet and true
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my false sister, Anne
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Who drowned me for the sake of a man
the swans swim so bonny o

Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet restShrouded by the night
And by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
while all within lay quiet as the deadOh night thou was my guide
of night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the otherUpon that misty night
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
than that which burned so deeply in my heart
That fire t'was led me on
and shone more bright than of the midday sun
To where he waited still
it was a place where no one else could come
Within my pounding heart
which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave
From o'er the fortress walls
the wind would his hair against his brow
And with its smoothest hand
caressed my every sense it would allow
I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lover's breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the morning's mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair

Marrakesh night market
They're gathered in circles
the lamps light their faces
The crescent moon rocks in the sky
The poets of drumming
keep heartbeats suspended
The smoke swirls up and then dies

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

The stories are woven
and fortunes are told
The truth is measured by the weight of your gold
The magic lies scattered
on rugs on the ground
Faith is conjured in the night market's sound

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

The lessons are written
on parchments of paper
They're carried by horse from the river Nile
says the shadowy voice
In the firelight, the cobra
is casting the flame a winsome smile

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

Stars were falling deep in the darkness
as prayers rose softly, petals at dawn
And as I listened, your voice seemed so clear
so calmly you were calling your god

Somewhere the sun rose, o'er dunes in the desert
such was the stillness, I ne'er felt before
Was this the question, pulling, pulling, pulling you
in your heart, in your soul, did you find rest there?

Elsewhere a snowfall, the first in the winter
covered the ground as the bells filled the air
You in your robes sang, calling, calling, calling him
in your heart, in your soul, did you find peace there

January, 1992 - Just performed in Santiago de Compostella in the Galician area
of Spain...misty and lush as we arrived from more arid areas of the country;
clearly Celtic territory in the language and music, and a place I must visit
again soon...We arrived a day early; band et al went for a wonderful Sunday
lunch and then wandered over to the cathedral to observe the wonderful faces on
the Portico.
May, 1992 - Santiago de Compostella (St. James in the Field of Stars)...had
occasion to return to Galicia and Santiago sooner than I'd thought...I learned
the story behind the city. Supposedly the remains of St. James arrived
mysteriously in the village of Padron (which we visited...lovely line of trees
along the waterway leading to the place where the relics were found) and
interred here in Santiago...I picked up a CD collection of music emanating from
the pilgrimage route to Santiago, as well as a CD by Spanish group Els
Trobadors...wonderful feeling to this music.
May, 1993 - Now studying liner notes, books and pieces of music, putting
together a clearer picture of Santiago in the years 900 to 1500 when it
rivalled Jerusalem and Rome as a pilgrimage destination, playing host to a
motley tide of humanity pursuing both religious and more earthy goals. It was
also the site of unprecedented cross-cultural fertilization between the
Christian, Jewish and Moorish communities. When I heard this piece, I was
struck by its Semitic tone, and realised that, even in the area of music, the
three communities were influencing each other.
Janvier 1992 - Je viens de donner un spectacle a Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle,
en Galice, dans le nord de l'Espagne...brumeux et luxuriant en comparaison des
contrees plus arides du reste du pays; un territoire nettement celtique par sa
langue et sa musique, un endroit que je dois revenir visiter bientot...Nous
sommes arrives une journee a l'avance; toute l'equipe s'est retrouvee pur un
magnifique dejeuner du dimanche, pous s'est promenee jusqu'a la cathedrale pour
admirer le splendic portique.
Mai 1992 - Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle (Saint-Jacques das le Champ des
etoiles)...j'ai eu l'occasion de revenir en Galice et a Siant-Jacques plus vite
que je ne l'esperais...J'ai appris l'histoire de la fondation de cette ville.
Selon la legende, le corps de Saint-Jacques serait arrive mysterieusement dans
la ville de Padron (que nous avons visitee... une belle rangee d'arbres le long
du cours d'eau menant jusqu'a la place ou les reliques furent decouvertes) et
aurait ete enterre ici a Saint-Jacques...J'ai achete une collection de disques
compacts de musique de la route du pelerinage vers Compostelle, et un disque du
groupe espagnol Els Troubadors.
Mai 1993 - J'etudie maintenant des notes, des livres et des oeuvres musicales,
pour me forger une image plus claire de Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle dans les
annees 900 a 1500, quand la cite rivalisait avec Jerusalem et Rome comme lieu
de pelerinage; elle etait l'hote de vagues humaines bigarrees, motivees par des
aspirations religieuses mais egalement plus terre a terre. Elle etait aussi le
centre d'echanges d'une fecondite sans precedent entre les communautes
chretiennes, juives et musulmanes. Quand j'ai entendu cette oeuvre, j'ai ete
frappee par sa tonalite semitique et j'ai realise que, meme dans le domaine
musical, les trois civilisations s'influencaient les unes les autres.
Januar 1992 - Bin gerade in Santiago de Compostella, im galizischen Teil
Spaniens, aufgetreten...dunstig und ueppig im Vergleich zu den mehr duerren
Gegenden Spaniens, aus denen wir gerade kamen; ganz eindeutig sprachlich und
musikalisch keltisch beeinflusstes Gebiet, eine Gegend, die ich bald wieder
besuchen moechte...Wir kamen einen Tag zu frueh an, die Band und ich gingen


essen und nach einem wunderbaren Sonntags-Mittagessen sind wir zur Kathedrale
hinueber gebummelt, um uns das wundervolle Gesicht auf dem Portikus anzusehen.
Mai 1992 - Santiago de Compostella (der heilige Jakob im Feld der
Sterne)...Hatte schneller die Gelegenheit, nach Galizien und Santiago
zurueckzukehren, als ich dachte...Ich erfuhr die Geschichte, die der Stadt
anhaengt. Anscheinend gelangten die Ueberreste des heiligen Jakob auf
mysterioese Weise in die Stadt Padron (welche wir auch besuchten...eine
huebsche Baumreihe zieht sich entlang des Wasserweges, der zu dem Fundort
fuehrt) und wurden dann hier in Santiago begraben. Ich fand eine CD-Sammlung
mit Musik, die von der Pilgerfahrt nach Santiago stammt und noch eine CD der
spanischen Gruppe Els Trobadors.
Mai 1993 - Beschaftige mich jetzt mit Notizen, Buechern und Musikstuecken, um
mir ein klares Bild von Santiago aus der Zeit 900 - 1500 machen zu koennen, das
zu der Zeit mit Jerusalem und Rom als Pilgerziel rivalisierte, und zu der Zeit
eine kunterbunte Welle der Menschlichkeit beherbergte, die sich religioese wie
auch irdische Ziele gesetzt hatte. Es war ausserdem der Schauplatz einer bisher
nie dagewesenen interkulturellen Befruchtung zwischen den Christen, Juden und
der maurischen Bevoelkerung. Als ich dieses Stueck hoerte, erstaunte mich der
semitische Klang, und mir wurde klar, dass sich diese drei Gruppen auch in der
Musik gegenseitig beeinflussten.
Enero de 1992 - acabo de actuar en Santiago de Compostela, Galicia...region
mistica y excuberante sobre todo llegando de zonas mas aridas del pais;
claramente es territorio celta por su lenguaje y su musica. y un sitio al que
tengo que volver pronto...Llegamos temprano; el grupo y yo nos fuimos a tomar
una esplendida comida de domingo y luego vagamos por la catedral para ver el
maravilloso Portico de la Gloria.
Mayo de 1992 - Santiago de Compostela...tuve la oportunidad de volver a Galicia
y a Santiago antes de lo que esperaba...Aprendi la historia de la ciudad.
Supuestamente los restos de Santiago llegaron misterisamente a la ciudad de
Padron y fueron enterrados en la ciudad de Santiago...Cogi una recopilacion en
CD de musica del camino de Santiago y un CD de un grupo espanol llamado Els
Trobadors.
Mayo de 1993 - estoy estudiando notas, libros y piezas musicales, intentado
reunir una imagen mas clara de Santiago desde el ano 900 hasta el 1500, cuando
rivalizaba con las peregrinaziones a Jerusalem y a Roma, ofreciendo a sus
huespedes vertientes humanas mas varidas, persiguiendo al mismo tiempo metas
religiosas y terrenales. Fue tambien un fertilismo emplazamiento de cruce de
culturas sin ningun precedente: las comunidades cristinas, judias y musulmanas.
Cuando escuche esta pieza, quede atrapada por su tono semitico, y fui
consciente de que, incluso en el campo de la musica, las tres comunidades se
habian influido entre ellas.
Traditional music arranged and adapted by L.M.
L.M. - vocals, accordion, synthesizer
Brian Hughes - balalaika, guitars
Rick Lazar - drums, percussion
George Koller - cello, bass
Hugh Marsh - fiddle
Nigel Eaton - hurdy-gurdy
Donal Lunny - bouzouki

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody.
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee,
There the Loves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and fro
In those great ignorant leafy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.


Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass,
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
For all things turn to bareness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings: alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart,
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.

And now my charms are all o'erthrown
And what strength I have's mine own
Which is most faint; now t'is true
I must here be released by youBut release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayerWhich pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults
As you from your crimes would pardon'd be
Let your indulgence set me free

When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair
When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
Who will go down to those shady groves
And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
In the springtime of the year
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days
And so they linked their hands and danced
Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
When all the shades are gone
"A garland gay we bring you here
And at your door we stand
It is a sprout well budded out
The work of Our Lord's hand"

O light the candle, John
The daylight has almost gone
The birds have sung their last
The bells call all to massAnd sit here by my side
For the night is very long
There's something I must tell
Before I pass along
I joined the brotherhood
My books were all to me
I scribed the words of God
And much of history
Many a year was I
Perched out upon the sea
The waves would wash my tears,
The wind, my memory
I'd hear the ocean breathe
Exhale upon the shore
I knew the tempest's blood
Its wrath I would endure
And so the years went by
Within my rocky cell
With only a mouse or bird
My friend; I loved them well
And so it came to pass
I'd come here to Romani
And many a year it took
Till I arrived here with thee
On dusty roads I walked
And over mountains high
Through rivers running deep
Beneath the endless sky
Beneath these jasmine flowers
Amidst these cypress trees
I give you now my books
And all their mysteries
Now take the hourglass
And turn it on its head
For when the sands are still
'Tis then you'll find me dead
O light the candle, John
The daylight is almost gone
The birds have sung their last
The bells call all to mass

Part I
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding,
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilts a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

And over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
If they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by the moonlight,
Watch for me be the moonlight,
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet waves in the moonlight!)
He tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

Part II

He did not come at the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching,
Marching, marching,
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.
But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
Hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say-
'Look for me by the moonlight;
Watch for me by the moonlight;
I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way!'

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.
Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

'Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot!' Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
'Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot,' in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

'Tlot-tlot,' in the frosty silence! 'Tlot-tlot,' in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.

He turned; He spurred to the west; he did not know she stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

And back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

'Still of a winter's night,

Ride on Through the night Ride on
Ride on Through the night Ride on
There are visions, there are memories
There are echoes of thundering hooves
There are fires, there is laughter
There's the sound of a thousand doves
In the velvet of the darkness
By the silhouette of silent trees
they are watching waiting
They are witnessing life's mysteries
Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny
Take me with you on this journey
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed
In cathedrals of the forest
In the words of the tongues now lost
Find the answers, ask the questions
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Take me dancing, take me singing
I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me

All souls night
Bonfire dot the rolling hillsides
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
Moving to the pagan sound.

Somewhere in a hidden memory
Images float before my eyes
Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires
And dancing till the next sunrise.

I can see the lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All Souls Night.

Figures of cornstalks bend in the shadows
Held up tall as the flames leap high
The green knight holds the holly bush
To mark where the old year passes by.

Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides -- photo
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
Moving to the pagan sound.

Standing on the bridge that crosses
The river that goes out to the sea
The wind is full of a thousand voices
They pass by the bridge and me.

- 2x

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.O bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree
For it stood on your shore for many's the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away.O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, "Where will we shelter or where will we sleep?"
For the Oak and the Ash, they are all cutten down
And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground.O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords of Old England would not purchase Portmore

Music by Loreena McKennitt

L. M.: Harp, Keyboards
BRIAN HUGHES: Guitar, Balalaika
RICK LAZAR: Drums, Percussion
GEORGE KOLLER: Bass
HUGH MARSH: Fiddle

The Lady of Shalott
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And trho' the field the road run by

To many-towered Camelot;

And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,

The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes disk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.

Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers

The Lady of Shalott

Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the beared barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,

Down to tower'd Camelot;

And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listing, whispers "'tis the fairy

The Lady of Shalott."

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.

And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near

Winding down to Camelot;

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The Knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and with lights

And music, went to Camelot;

Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am, half sick of shadow," she said,

The Lady of Shalott.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves,

Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,

Beside remote Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down to Camelot.

And from the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river

Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried -- photo

The Lady of Shalott.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot; -- photo

Down she cam and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round the prow she wrote

The Lady of Shalott.

Down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance -
With a glassy countenance

She looked to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and shown she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted slowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,

Silent into Camelot.

And out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And round the prow they read her name,

The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
They crossed themselves for fear,

The Knights at Camelot;

But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "she has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott

But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Alas my love you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you oh so long
Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold
Greensleeves was my heart of joy
And who but my lady Greensleeves.

I have been ready at your hand
To grant whatever thou would'st crave;
I have waged both life and land
Your love and goodwill for to have.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold
Greensleeves was my heart of joy
And who but my lady Greensleeves.

Thy petticoat of sendle white
With gold embroidered gorgeously;
Thy petticoat of silk and white
And these I bought gladly.

Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold
Greensleeves was my heart of joy
And who but my lady Greensleeves

Wherein the deep night sky
The stars lie in its embrace
The courtyard still in its sleep
And peace comes over your face.

"Come to me," it sings
"Hear the pulse of the land
The ocean's rhythms pull
To hold your heart in its hand."

And when the wind draws strong
Across the cypress trees
The nightbirds cease their songs
So gathers memories.

Last night you spoke of a dream
Where forests stretched to the east
And each bird sang its song
A unicorn joined in a feast

And in a corner stood
A pomegranate tree
With wild flowers there
No mortal eye could see

Yet still some mystery befalls
Sure as the cock crows at morn
The world in stillness keeps
The secret of babes to be born

I heard an old voice say
"Don't go far from the land
The seasons have their way
No mortal can understand."

The old ways
The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.

On a dark new year's night
On the west coast of Clare
I hear your voice singing
Your eyes danced the song
Your hands played the tune
T'was a vision before me.

We left the music behind and the dance carried on
As we stole away to the seashore
We smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair

With sadness you paused.

Suddenly I knew that you'd have to go
Your world was not mine, your eyes told me so
Yet it was there I felt the crossroads of time

And I wondered why.

As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea
A vision came o'er me
Of thundering hooves and beating wings

In clouds above.

As you turned to go I heard you call my name.
You were like a bird in a cage, spreading its
Wings to fly
"The old ways are lost" you sang as you flew

And I wondered why.

The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.
The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.
The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.

Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Nor the furious winters' rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' th' great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.

All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan.
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust

A farmer there lived in the north country
a hey ho bonny o
And he had daughters one, two, three
The swans swim so bonny o
These daughters they walked by the river's brim
a hey ho bonny o
The eldest pushed the youngest in
The swans swim so bonny oOh sister, oh sister, pray lend me your hand
with a hey ho a bonny o
And I will give you house and land
the swans swim so bonny o
I'll give you neither hand nor glove
with a hey ho a bonny o
Unless you give me your own true love
the swans swim so bonny oSometimes she sank, sometimes she swam
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Until she came to a miller's dam
the swans swim so bonny oThe miller's daughter, dressed in red
with a hey ho and a bonny o
She went for some water to make some bread
the swans swim so bonny oOh father, oh daddy, here swims a swan
with a hey ho and a bonny o
It's very like a gentle woman
the swans swim so bonny o
They placed her on the bank to dry
with a hey ho and a bonny o
There came a harper passing by
the swans swim so bonny oHe made harp pins of her fingers fair
with a hey ho and a bonny o
He made harp strings of her golden hair
the swans swim so bonny o
He made a harp of her breast bone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play alone
the swans swim so bonny oHe brought it to her father's hall
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And there was the court, assembled all
the swans swim so bonny o
He laid the harp upon a stone
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And straight it began to play lone
the swans swim so bonny oAnd there does sit my father the King
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And yonder sits my mother the Queen
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my brother Hugh
with a hey ho and a bonny o
And by him William, sweet and true
the swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my false sister, Anne
with a hey ho and a bonny o
Who drowned me for the sake of a man
the swans swim so bonny o

When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair
When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
Who will go down to those shady groves
And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
In the springtime of the year
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days
And so they linked their hands and danced
Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
When all the shades are gone
"A garland gay we bring you here
And at your door we stand
It is a sprout well budded out
The work of Our Lord's hand"

Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the Feast of Stephen
When the snow lay 'round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gath'ring winter fuel


"Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou know'st it, telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes' fountain."


"Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine-logs hither
Thou and I shall see him dine
When we bear them thither."
Page and monarch, forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather.


"Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how
I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, good my page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shall find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly."


In his master's step he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye, who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.

Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child
By by, lully, lullay, thou little tiny child
By by, lully lullay

O sisters too, how may we do
For to preserve this day
This poor youngling
For whom we do sing
By by, lully lullay?

Herod, the king
In his raging
Charged he hath this day
His men of might
In his own sight,
All young children to slay

That woe is me
Poor child for thee!
And ever morn and day,
For thy parting
Neither say nor sing
By by, lully lullay!

White are the far-off fields,
And white the fading forests grow;
The wind dies out amongst the tides
Denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly.

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall hoods me around;
In wood and water, earth and air,
Silence is everywhere.

Save when at lonely spells
Some farmer's sleigh is urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
From the empty space I hear
A sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog,
To cattle, is sharply pued,
Borne, echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield;
Then all is silent and the snow
Falls settling soft and slow

The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer Earth to sky
The world seems so shrouded, so far away.
Its noises sleep, and I
As secret as yon buried stream
Plod dumbly on and dream.

I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream

I sowed the seeds of love
I sowed them in the spring
I gathered them up in the morning so clear
When the small birds so sweetly sing
When the small birds so sweetly sing

The gardener was standing by
I asked him to choose for me
He chose for me the violet, the lily and the pink
But those I refused all three
But those I refused all three

The violet I did not like
Because it bloomed so soon
The lily and the pink I really over-think
So I thought I would wait till June
So I thought I would wait till June

In June there was a red rose bud
That is the flower for me
I often times have plucked that red rose bud
Till I gained the willow tree
Till I gained the willow tree

The willow tree will twist
The willow tree will twine
I often have wished I was in the young man's arms
Who once had the arms of mine
Who once had the arms of mine

I sowed the seeds of love
I sowed them in the spring
I gathered them up in the morning so soon
When the small birds so sweetly sing
When the small birds so sweetly sing

Wassail! Wassail all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee!

So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek!
Pray God send out master a good piece of beef,
And a good piece of beef that we all may see;
With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee!

And here is to Dobbin and to his right eye!
Pray God send our master a good Christmas pie,
And a good Christmas pie that we may all see;
With our wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee!

So here is to Broad May and to her broad horn!
May God send our master a good crop of corn,
And a good crop of corn that we may all see;
With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee!

And here is to Fillpail and to her left ear!
Pray God send our master a happy new year,
And a happy new year as e´er he did see;
With our wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee!

And here is to Colly and to her long tail!
Pray God send our master he never may fail
A bowl of strong beer, I pray you draw near,
And our jolly wassail it´s then you shall hear.

Then here´s to the maid in the lily-white smock
Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock;
Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin,
For to let these jolly wassailers in.

Wassail! Wassail all over the town!
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing-bowl, we´ll drink to thee!

Drink to thee, drink to thee,
With the wassailing-bowl we´ll drink to thee.

Veni, veni, Emanuel:
Captivum solve Israel,
Qui gemit in exilio,
Privatus Dei Filio

Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

Veni veni, O Oriens;
Solare nos adveniens;
Noctis depelle nebulas,
Dirasque noctis tenebras.
Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

Veni, Clavis Davidica;
Regna reclude celica;
Fac iter tutum superum,
Et claude vias inferum.

Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

Veni, veni, Adonai,
Qui populo in Sina
Legem dedisiti vertice
In maiestate glorie.

Gaude! Gaude! Emanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

A blacksmith courted me
Nine months and better
He fairly won my heart
Wrote me a letter
With his hammer in his hand
He looked quite clever
And if I was with my love
I'd live forever.

But where is my love gone
With his cheeks like roses
And his good black billycock on
Decked round with primroses
I'm afraid the scorching sun
Will shine and burn his beauty
And if I was with my love
I'd do my duty.

Strange news is coming to town
Strange news is carried
Strange news flies up and down
That my love is married.
I wish them both much joy
Though they can't hear me
And may God reward him well
For the slighting of me.

Don't you remember when
You lay beside me
And you said you'd marry me
And not deny me
If I said I'd marry you
It was only for to try you
So bring your witness love
And I'll not deny you.

No witness have I none
Save God Almighty
And may he reward you well
For the slighting of me
Her lips grew pale and wan
It made her poor heart tremble
To think she loved a one
And he proved deceitful.

A blacksmith courted me
Nine months and better
He fairly won my heart
Wrote me a letter
With his hammer in his hand
He looked quite clever
And if I was with my love
I'd live forever.

My love said to me
My mother won't mind
And me father won't slight you
For your lack of kind
Then she stepped away from me
And this she did say,
"It will not be long, love
Till our wedding day"

She stepped away from me
And she moved through the fair
And fondly I watched her
Move here and move there
And she went her way homeward
With one star awake
As the swans in the evening
Move over the lake

The people were saying
No two e'er were wed
But one has a sorrow
That never was said
And she smiled as she passed me
With her goods and her gear
And that was the last
That I saw of my dear.

I dreamed it last night
That my true love came in
So softly she entered
Her feet made no din
she came close beside me
And this she did say,
"It will not be long, love
Till our wedding day."

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats
There we've hid our faery vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Chorus:
Come away, O human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light
By far off furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
Whilst the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.

Chorus

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.

Chorus

Away with us he's going
The solemn-eyed
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.

Chorus

For he comes, the human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than you can understand.

I wish I was in Carrighfergus,
Only for nights in Ballygrant
I would swim over the deepest ocean,
Only for nights in Ballygrant.

But the sea is wide, and I can't get over.
And neither have I wings to fly,
Or if I could find me a handsome boatsman
To ferry me over to my love and die.

Now in Kilkenny, it is reported,
They've marble stones there as black as ink
With gold and silver I would transport her
But I'll sing no more now, till I get a drink.

I'm drunk today, but then I'm seldom sober.
A handsome rover from town to town.
Ah, but I am sick now, my days are over,
Come all you young lads and lay me down.

I wish I was in Carrighfergus,
Only for nights in Ballygran.

Here's a health to you bonny Kellswater
Where you get all the pleasures of life
Where you get all the fishing and fowling
And a bonny wee lass for your wife.

Oh it's down where yon waters run muddy
I'm afraid they will never run clear
And it's when I begin for to study
My mind is on him that's not here.

And it's this one and that one may court him
But if any one gets him but me
It's early and late I will curse them
The parting lovely Willie from me.

Oh a father he calls on his daughter
Two choices I'll give unto thee
Would you rather see Willie's ship a sailing
See him hung like a dog on yonder tree.

Oh father, dear father, I love him
I can no longer hide it from thee
Through an acre of fire I would travel
Along with the lovely Willie to be.

Oh hard was the heartbreak I'm finding
She took from her full heart's delight
May the chains of old Ireland come find them
And softly their pillows at night.

Oh yonder there's a ship on the ocean
And she does not know which way to steer
From the east and the west she's a'blowing
She reminds me of the charms of my dear.

Oh it's yonder my Willie will be coming
He said he'd be here in the spring
And it's down by yon green shades I'll meet him
And among wild roses we'll sing.

For a gold ring be placed on my finger
Saying love bear this in your mind
If ever I sail from old Ireland
You'll mind I'll not leave you behind.

Here's a health to you bonny Kellswater
Where you get all the pleasures of life
Where you get all the fishing and fowling
And a bonny wee lass for your wife.

As I walked out one morning
All in the month of May
Down by a flowery garden
I carelessly did stray

I overheard a young maid
In sorrow did complain,
All for her absent lover
Who plows the raging main.

I boldly stepped up to her
And put her in surprise.
I know she did not know me
I being in disguise.

I says, "Me charming creature,
My joy, my hearts delight,
How far have you to travel
This dark and dreary night?"

"I'm in search of a faithless young man.
Johnny is his name.
And along the Banks of Claudy
I'm told be does remain."

"This is the Banks of Claudy
Fair maid where on you stand.
But don't depend on Johnny
For he's a false young man.

Oh don't depend on Johnny
For he'll not meet you here.
But tarry with me in yon green woods
No danger need you fear

Oh it's six long weeks or better
Since Johnny left the shore
He's crossing the wild ocean
Where the foam and the billows roar

He's crossing the wild ocean
For honour and for fame.
But this I've beard, the ship was wrecked
All on the coast of Spain."

Oh it's when she heard this dreadful news
She flew into despair
By the wringing of her milk white hands
And the tearing of her hair.


Saying "If Johnny he is drowned
No man on earth I'll take,
But through lonesome groves and valleys
I'll wander for his sake."


Oh it's when he saw her loyalty
No longer could he stand
He flew into her arms saying
"Betsy I'm the man."

"Saying Betsy I'm the young man
The cause of all your pain
But since we've met on Claudy Banks
We'll never part again."

O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue
To drown the throat of war! - When the senses
Are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness,
Who can stand? When the souls of the oppressed
Fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?
When the whirlwind of fury comes from the
Throne of god, when the frowns of his countenance
Drive the nations together, who can stand?
When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle,
And sails rejoicing in the flood of Death;
When souls are torn to everlasting fire,
And fiends of Hell rejoice upon the slain.
O who can stand? O who hath caused this?
O who can answer at the throne of God?
The Kings and Nobles of the Land have done it!
Hear it not, Heaven, thy Ministers have done it!

All hail to the days that merit more praise
Than all the rest of the year,
And welcome the nights that double delights
As well for the poor as the peer!
Good fortune attend each merry man's friend
That doth but the best that he may,
Forgetting old wrongs with carols and songs
To drive the cold winter away.

Tis ill for a mind to anger inclined
To think of small injuries now,
If wrath be to seek, do not lend her your cheek
Nor let her inhabit thy brow.
Cross out of thy books malevolent looks,
Both beauty and youth's decay,
And wholly consort with mirth and sport
To drive the cold winter away.

This time of the year is spent in good cheer
And neighbours together do meet,
To sit by the fire, with friendly desire,
Each other in love to greet.
Old grudges forgot are put in the pot,
All sorrows aside they lay,
The old and the young doth carol this song,
To drive the cold winter away.

When Christmas's tide comes in a like a bride,
With holly and ivy clad,
Twelve days in the year much mirth and good cheer
In every household is had.
The country guise is then to devise
Some gambols of Christmas play,
Whereat the young men do the best that they can
To drive the cold winter away.

White are the far-off fields,
And white the fading forests grow;
The wind dies out amongst the tides
Denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly.

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall hoods me around;
In wood and water, earth and air,
Silence is everywhere.

Save when at lonely spells
Some farmer's sleigh is urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
From the empty space I hear
A sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog,
To cattle, is sharply pued,
Borne, echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield;
Then all is silent and the snow
Falls settling soft and slow

The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer Earth to sky
The world seems so shrouded, so far away.
Its noises sleep, and I
As secret as yon buried stream
Plod dumbly on and dream.

I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream

I come to hevin which to tell
The best nowells that e'er befell
To you thir tythings trew I bring
And I will of them say and sing.

This day to you is born ane child
Of Marie meik and Virgin mild
That bliss it bairn bening and kind
Sall you rejoyce baith hart and mind.

Lat us rejoyis and be blyth
And with the Hyrdis go full swyth
And see what God of his grace hes done
Throu Christ to bring us to his throne

My saull and life stand up and see
Wha lyis in ane cribbe of tree.
What Babe is that, sa gude and fair
It is Christ, God's son and Air.

O my deir hard, yung Jesus sweit
Prepair thy creddil in my spreit!
And I sall rock thee in my hart
And never mair fra thee depart.

Bot I sall praise thee evermoir
With sangis sweit unto thy gloir
The kneis of my hard sall I bow
And sing that rycht Balulalow.

Let us the Infant greet,
In worship before Him fall,
And let us pay Him homage meet,
On this His Festival.

Let us to the Infant sing,
And bring Him of gifts rich store,
Let us honour our Infant King
With praise for evermore.

Let us to the Infant kneel,
And love him with faithful love,
And let our joyous anthems peal,
For him who reigns above.

Glad hymns in the Infant's laud,
Sing we to Him while we may,
In heaven where He is throned as God,
Our service He will pay.

Be we to the Infant true,
While we are dwelling on mould,
And He will give us our wages due,
A crown of purest gold.

Let all that are to mirth inclined
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done
In sending his beloved Son

For to redeem our souls from thrall
Christ is the saviour of us all.

The twenty-fifth day of December
We have good cause to remember
In Bethlehem upon that morn
There was a blessed Messiah born

But mark how all things came to pass
The inn and lodgings filled was
That they could find no room at all
But in a straw-filled oxes stall.

Near Bethlehem some shepherds keep
Their flocks and herds of feeding sheep
To whom God's angels did appear
Which put the shepherds in great fear

With thankful heart and joyful mind
The shepherds went this babe to find.
And as the heavenly angel told
They did our saviour Christ behold.

Three eastern wise men from afar,
Directed by a glorious star
Came boldly on and made no stay,
Until they came where Jesus lay.

And being come unto that place
Where the blessed Messiah was
They humbly laid before his feet
Their gifts of gold and incense sweet.

See how the Lord of heaven and earth
Shewd himself lowly in his birth;
A sweet example for mankind
To learn to bear an humble mind.

Let all your songs and praises be
Unto his heavenly majesty
And evermore amongst our mirth
Remember Christ our Saviour's birth.

When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair.

When owls call the breathless moon
in the blue veil of the night
When shadows of the trees appear
amidst the lantern('s) light.

We've been rambling all the night
and sometime of this day
Now returning back again
we bring a garland gay.

Who will go down to those shady groves
and summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
in the springtime of the year.

The sounds of birds seem to fill the wood
and when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
long past their woodland days.

We've been rambling all the night
and sometime of this day
Now returning back again
we bring a garland gay.

And so they linked their hands and danced
'round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
when all the shades are gone.

A garland gay we bring you here
And at your door we stand
Here's a sprout, well budded out
The work of our Lord's hand.

We've been rambling all the night
and sometime of this day
Now returning back again
we bring a garland gay.

When the moon on a cloud cast night
Hung above the tree tops' height
You sang me of some distant past
That made my heart beat strong and fast
Now I know I'm home at last
You offered me an eagle's wing
That to the sun I might soar and sing
And if I heard the owl's cry
Into the forest I would fly
And in its darkness find you by.
And so our love's not a simple thing
Nor our truths unwavering
But like the moon's pull on the tide
Our fingers touch our hearts collide
I'll be a moonsbreath by your side

Moon cradle
When the moon-cradle's rocking and rocking
Where a cloud and a cloud go by
Silently rocking and rocking
The moon-cradle's out in the sky.

Then comes the lad with the hazel
And the folding star's in the rack
'Night's a good herd' to the cattle,
He sings, 'She brings all things back.'

But the bond woman down by the boorie
Sings with a heart grown wild
How a hundred rivers are flowing
Between herself and her child.

'The geese, even they trudge homeward
That have their wings and the waste,
Let your thoughts be on Night the Herder,
And be quiet for a space.'

The moon-cradle's rocking and rocking,
Where a cloud and a cloud go by,
Silent rocking and rocking
The moon-cradle out in the sky.

The snipe they are crying and crying
Liadine, liadine, liadine
Where no track's on the bog they are flying:
A lonely dream will be mine!
Where no track's on the bog they are flying:
A lonely dream will be mine!

Harking is bonny and there lives my love
My heart lies on him and cannot remove
It cannot remove for all that I have done
And I never will forget my love Annachie
For Annachie Gordon he's bonny and he's bright
He'd entice any woman that e'er he saw
He'd entice any woman and so he has done me
And I never will forget my love Annachie.

Down came her father and he's standing at the door
Saying Jeannie you are trying the tricks of a whore
You care nothing for a man who cares so much for thee
You must marry Lord Sultan and leave Annachie
For Annachie Gordon is barely but a man
Although he may be pretty but where are his lands
The Sultan's lands are broad and his towers they run high
You must marry Lord Sultan and leave Annachie.

With Annachie Gordon I beg for my bread
And before I marry Sultan his gold to my head
With gold to my head and straight down to my knees
And I'll die if I don't get my love Annachie
And you who are my parents to church you may me bring
But unto Lord Sultan I'll never bear a son
To a son or a daughter I'll never bow my knee
And I'll die if I don't get my love Annachie.

Jeannie was married and from church was brought home
When she and her maidens so merry should have been
When she and her maidens so merry should have been
She goes into her chamber and cries all alone.

Come to my bed my Jeannie my honey and my sweet
To stile you my mistress it would be so sweet
Be it mistress or Jeanne it's all the same to me
But in your bed Lord Sultan I never will lie
And down came her father and he's spoken with reknown
Saying you who are her maidens
Go loosen up her gowns
And she fell down to the floor
And straight down to her knee saying
Father look I'm dying for my love Annachie.

The day that Jeanne married was the day that Jeannie died
And the day that young Annachie came home on the tide
And down came her maidens all wringing of their hands
Saying oh it's been so long, you've been so long on the sands
So long on the sands, so long on the flood
They have married your Jeannie and now she lies dead.

You who are her maidens come take me by the hand
And lead me to the chamber where my love she lies in
And he kissed her cold lips till his heart it turned to stone
And he died in the chamber where his love she lies in.

In one of these lonely Orkney Isles
There dwelled a maiden fair.
Her cheeks were red, her eyes were blue
She had yellow, curling hair.
Which caught the eye and then the heart
Of one who could never be
A lover of so true a mind
Or fair a form as she.
Across the lake in Sandwick
Dwelled a youth she held most true,
And ever since her infancy
He had watched these eyes so blue.
The land runs out to the sea -
It's a narrow neck of land -
Where weird and grim the Standing Stones
In a circle where they stand.
One bonny moonlight Christmas Eve
They met at that sad place.
With her heart in glee and the beams of love
Were shining on her face
When her lover came and he grasped her hand
And what loving words they said
They talked of future's happy days,
As through the stones they strayed.
They walked toward the lovers' stone
And through it passed their hands.
They plighted there a constant troth
Sealed by love's steadfast bands
He kissed his maid and then he watched her
That lonely bridge go o'er.
For little, little did he think
He wouldn't see his darling more.
Standing Stones of the Orkney Isles
Gazing out to sea
Standing Stones of the Orkney Isles
Bring my love to me.
He turned his face toward his home
That home he did never see
And you shall have the story
As it was told to me.When a form upon him sprang
With a dagger gleaming bright
It pierced his heart and his dying screams
Disturbed the silent night.
This maid had nearly reached her home
When she was startled by a cry.
And she turned to look around her
And her love was standing by
His hand was pointing to the stars
And his eyes gazed at the light.
And with a smiling countenance
He vanished from her sight.
She quickly turned and home she ran
Not a word of this was said,For well she knew at seeing his form
That her faithful love was dead.
And from that day she pined away,
Not a smile seen on her face,
And with outstretched arms she went to meet him
In a brighter place

I hear some distant drumbeat
A heartbeat pulsing low
Is it coming from within
A heartbeat I don't know
A troubled heart knows no peace
A dark and poisoned pool
Of liberty now lost
A pawn an oppressor's tool.
Oh my heart be strong
And guide when eyes grow dim
When ears grow deaf with empty words
When I know there's life within.
A gunfire shatters silence
Where birds once sweetly sang
A mother cradles a child now dead
Now death where life began
From the troubled heart of South Africa
Nicaragua's festering sore
The turmoil on the streets of China
Death crying out for more
A change is slow in coming
My eyes can scarcely see
The rays of hope come streaming
Through the smoke of apathy
But oh my heart be strong
And guide when eyes grow dim
When ears grow deaf with empty words
When I know there's life within.
May the spirit never die
Though a troubled heart feels pain
When the long winter is over
It will blossom once again

Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child
By by, lully, lullay, thou little tiny child
By by, lully lullay

O sisters too, how may we do
For to preserve this day
This poor youngling
For whom we do sing
By by, lully lullay?

Herod, the king
In his raging
Charged he hath this day
His men of might
In his own sight,
All young children to slay

That woe is me
Poor child for thee!
And ever morn and day,
For thy parting
Neither say nor sing
By by, lully lullay!

God rest ye merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Saviour
Was born on Christmas Day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
comfort and joy;
O tidings of comfort and joy!

From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed angel came
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same
How in that Bethlehem was born
The son of God by name

"Fear not," then said the angel
"Let nothing you affright
This day is born a saviour
Of a pure virgin bright
To free all those who trust in him
From Satan's pow'r and might"

The shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a-feeding
In tempest, storm and wind
And went to Bethlehem straightaway
This blessed babe to find

But when to Bethlehem they came
Whereat this infant lay
They found him in a manger
Where oxen feed on hay
His mother Mary kneeling
Unto the Lord did pray

Now to the Lord sing praises
All you within this place
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface

Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the Feast of Stephen
When the snow lay 'round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gath'ring winter fuel


"Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou know'st it, telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes' fountain."


"Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine-logs hither
Thou and I shall see him dine
When we bear them thither."
Page and monarch, forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather.


"Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how
I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, good my page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shall find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly."


In his master's step he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye, who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.

White are the far-off fields,
And white the fading forests grow;
The wind dies out amongst the tides
Denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly.

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall hoods me around;
In wood and water, earth and air,
Silence is everywhere.

Save when at lonely spells
Some farmer's sleigh is urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
From the empty space I hear
A sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog,
To cattle, is sharply pued,
Borne, echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far afield;
Then all is silent and the snow
Falls settling soft and slow

The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer Earth to sky
The world seems so shrouded, so far away.
Its noises sleep, and I
As secret as yon buried stream
Plod dumbly on and dream.

I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream
I dream

I sowed the seeds of love
I sowed them in the spring
I gathered them up in the morning so clear
When the small birds so sweetly sing
When the small birds so sweetly sing

The gardener was standing by
I asked him to choose for me
He chose for me the violet, the lily and the pink
But those I refused all three
But those I refused all three

The violet I did not like
Because it bloomed so soon
The lily and the pink I really over-think
So I thought I would wait till June
So I thought I would wait till June

In June there was a red rose bud
That is the flower for me
I often times have plucked that red rose bud
Till I gained the willow tree
Till I gained the willow tree

The willow tree will twist
The willow tree will twine
I often have wished I was in the young man's arms
Who once had the arms of mine
Who once had the arms of mine

I sowed the seeds of love
I sowed them in the spring
I gathered them up in the morning so soon
When the small birds so sweetly sing
When the small birds so sweetly sing

Marrakesh night market
They're gathered in circles
the lamps light their faces
The crescent moon rocks in the sky
The poets of drumming
keep heartbeats suspended
The smoke swirls up and then dies

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

The stories are woven
and fortunes are told
The truth is measured by the weight of your gold
The magic lies scattered
on rugs on the ground
Faith is conjured in the night market's sound

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

The lessons are written
on parchments of paper
They're carried by horse from the river Nile
says the shadowy voice
In the firelight, the cobra
is casting the flame a winsome smile

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face, the face of your god

January, 1992 - Just performed in Santiago de Compostella in the Galician area
of Spain...misty and lush as we arrived from more arid areas of the country;
clearly Celtic territory in the language and music, and a place I must visit
again soon...We arrived a day early; band et al went for a wonderful Sunday
lunch and then wandered over to the cathedral to observe the wonderful faces on
the Portico.
May, 1992 - Santiago de Compostella (St. James in the Field of Stars)...had
occasion to return to Galicia and Santiago sooner than I'd thought...I learned
the story behind the city. Supposedly the remains of St. James arrived
mysteriously in the village of Padron (which we visited...lovely line of trees
along the waterway leading to the place where the relics were found) and
interred here in Santiago...I picked up a CD collection of music emanating from
the pilgrimage route to Santiago, as well as a CD by Spanish group Els
Trobadors...wonderful feeling to this music.
May, 1993 - Now studying liner notes, books and pieces of music, putting
together a clearer picture of Santiago in the years 900 to 1500 when it
rivalled Jerusalem and Rome as a pilgrimage destination, playing host to a
motley tide of humanity pursuing both religious and more earthy goals. It was
also the site of unprecedented cross-cultural fertilization between the
Christian, Jewish and Moorish communities. When I heard this piece, I was
struck by its Semitic tone, and realised that, even in the area of music, the
three communities were influencing each other.
Janvier 1992 - Je viens de donner un spectacle a Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle,
en Galice, dans le nord de l'Espagne...brumeux et luxuriant en comparaison des
contrees plus arides du reste du pays; un territoire nettement celtique par sa
langue et sa musique, un endroit que je dois revenir visiter bientot...Nous
sommes arrives une journee a l'avance; toute l'equipe s'est retrouvee pur un
magnifique dejeuner du dimanche, pous s'est promenee jusqu'a la cathedrale pour
admirer le splendic portique.
Mai 1992 - Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle (Saint-Jacques das le Champ des
etoiles)...j'ai eu l'occasion de revenir en Galice et a Siant-Jacques plus vite
que je ne l'esperais...J'ai appris l'histoire de la fondation de cette ville.
Selon la legende, le corps de Saint-Jacques serait arrive mysterieusement dans
la ville de Padron (que nous avons visitee... une belle rangee d'arbres le long
du cours d'eau menant jusqu'a la place ou les reliques furent decouvertes) et
aurait ete enterre ici a Saint-Jacques...J'ai achete une collection de disques
compacts de musique de la route du pelerinage vers Compostelle, et un disque du
groupe espagnol Els Troubadors.
Mai 1993 - J'etudie maintenant des notes, des livres et des oeuvres musicales,
pour me forger une image plus claire de Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle dans les
annees 900 a 1500, quand la cite rivalisait avec Jerusalem et Rome comme lieu
de pelerinage; elle etait l'hote de vagues humaines bigarrees, motivees par des
aspirations religieuses mais egalement plus terre a terre. Elle etait aussi le
centre d'echanges d'une fecondite sans precedent entre les communautes
chretiennes, juives et musulmanes. Quand j'ai entendu cette oeuvre, j'ai ete
frappee par sa tonalite semitique et j'ai realise que, meme dans le domaine
musical, les trois civilisations s'influencaient les unes les autres.
Januar 1992 - Bin gerade in Santiago de Compostella, im galizischen Teil
Spaniens, aufgetreten...dunstig und ueppig im Vergleich zu den mehr duerren
Gegenden Spaniens, aus denen wir gerade kamen; ganz eindeutig sprachlich und
musikalisch keltisch beeinflusstes Gebiet, eine Gegend, die ich bald wieder
besuchen moechte...Wir kamen einen Tag zu frueh an, die Band und ich gingen


essen und nach einem wunderbaren Sonntags-Mittagessen sind wir zur Kathedrale
hinueber gebummelt, um uns das wundervolle Gesicht auf dem Portikus anzusehen.
Mai 1992 - Santiago de Compostella (der heilige Jakob im Feld der
Sterne)...Hatte schneller die Gelegenheit, nach Galizien und Santiago
zurueckzukehren, als ich dachte...Ich erfuhr die Geschichte, die der Stadt
anhaengt. Anscheinend gelangten die Ueberreste des heiligen Jakob auf
mysterioese Weise in die Stadt Padron (welche wir auch besuchten...eine
huebsche Baumreihe zieht sich entlang des Wasserweges, der zu dem Fundort
fuehrt) und wurden dann hier in Santiago begraben. Ich fand eine CD-Sammlung
mit Musik, die von der Pilgerfahrt nach Santiago stammt und noch eine CD der
spanischen Gruppe Els Trobadors.
Mai 1993 - Beschaftige mich jetzt mit Notizen, Buechern und Musikstuecken, um
mir ein klares Bild von Santiago aus der Zeit 900 - 1500 machen zu koennen, das
zu der Zeit mit Jerusalem und Rom als Pilgerziel rivalisierte, und zu der Zeit
eine kunterbunte Welle der Menschlichkeit beherbergte, die sich religioese wie
auch irdische Ziele gesetzt hatte. Es war ausserdem der Schauplatz einer bisher
nie dagewesenen interkulturellen Befruchtung zwischen den Christen, Juden und
der maurischen Bevoelkerung. Als ich dieses Stueck hoerte, erstaunte mich der
semitische Klang, und mir wurde klar, dass sich diese drei Gruppen auch in der
Musik gegenseitig beeinflussten.
Enero de 1992 - acabo de actuar en Santiago de Compostela, Galicia...region
mistica y excuberante sobre todo llegando de zonas mas aridas del pais;
claramente es territorio celta por su lenguaje y su musica. y un sitio al que
tengo que volver pronto...Llegamos temprano; el grupo y yo nos fuimos a tomar
una esplendida comida de domingo y luego vagamos por la catedral para ver el
maravilloso Portico de la Gloria.
Mayo de 1992 - Santiago de Compostela...tuve la oportunidad de volver a Galicia
y a Santiago antes de lo que esperaba...Aprendi la historia de la ciudad.
Supuestamente los restos de Santiago llegaron misterisamente a la ciudad de
Padron y fueron enterrados en la ciudad de Santiago...Cogi una recopilacion en
CD de musica del camino de Santiago y un CD de un grupo espanol llamado Els
Trobadors.
Mayo de 1993 - estoy estudiando notas, libros y piezas musicales, intentado
reunir una imagen mas clara de Santiago desde el ano 900 hasta el 1500, cuando
rivalizaba con las peregrinaziones a Jerusalem y a Roma, ofreciendo a sus
huespedes vertientes humanas mas varidas, persiguiendo al mismo tiempo metas
religiosas y terrenales. Fue tambien un fertilismo emplazamiento de cruce de
culturas sin ningun precedente: las comunidades cristinas, judias y musulmanas.
Cuando escuche esta pieza, quede atrapada por su tono semitico, y fui
consciente de que, incluso en el campo de la musica, las tres comunidades se
habian influido entre ellas.
Traditional music arranged and adapted by L.M.
L.M. - vocals, accordion, synthesizer
Brian Hughes - balalaika, guitars
Rick Lazar - drums, percussion
George Koller - cello, bass
Hugh Marsh - fiddle
Nigel Eaton - hurdy-gurdy
Donal Lunny - bouzouki

Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet restShrouded by the night
And by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
while all within lay quiet as the deadOh night thou was my guide
of night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the otherUpon that misty night
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
than that which burned so deeply in my heart
That fire t'was led me on
and shone more bright than of the midday sun
To where he waited still
it was a place where no one else could come
Within my pounding heart
which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave
From o'er the fortress walls
the wind would his hair against his brow
And with its smoothest hand
caressed my every sense it would allow
I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lover's breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the morning's mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair

And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay

Who will go down to those shady groves
And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
In the springtime of the year

The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days

And so they linked their hands and danced
Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
When all the shades are gone

"A garland gay we bring you here
And at your door we stand
It is a sprout well budded out
The work of our lord's hand"

to moonn6pence from shootingstar(papayeverte)





The Dark Night Of The Soul /Loreena Mckennitt

Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest

캄캄하게 어두워진 어느 날 밤
내 가슴 속에선 사랑의 불꽃이 타올랐죠
만물이 고요하게 잠든 시간에
난 밝게 비추는 손전등 하나를 들고
집에서 도망치듯 빠져 나왔죠

Shrouded by the night
and by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
while all within lay quiet as the dead

밤은 나를 감추어 주었고
난 비밀 계단을 통하여 쏜살같이 내달렸죠
세상은 쥐 죽은 듯이 고요하였고
밤의 장막이 내 눈을 가렸지요

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other

아, 나의 안내자였던 그대, 밤
아, 떠오르는 태양보다 사랑스러운 밤
아, 사랑하는 사람과 사랑받는 사람이
서로 서로 사랑을 주고 받으면서
하나 되게 하는 밤

Upon that misty night
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
than that which burned
so deeply in my heart

사람들이 눈으로는 아무것도
볼 수 없는 은밀한 밤, 그렇게 안개가
끼인 밤엔 내 가슴 속 저 깊은 곳에서
타오르던 불꽃만큼 더 나은 안내자나
불빛은 없었을 거예요

That fire t'was led me on
and shone more bright
than of the midday sun
To where he waited still
it was a place
where no one else could come

그는 아무도 올 수 없는 그곳,
바로 그곳에서 꼼짝도 않고
나를 기다리고 있었고,
그 불꽃은 정오의 태양보다 더 밝은
빛으로 그곳을 비추었고,
그리고 그곳으로 나를 데려다 주었죠

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other

아, 나의 안내자였던 그대, 밤
아, 떠오르는 태양보다 사랑스러운 밤
아, 사랑하는 사람과 사랑받는 사람이
서로 서로 사랑을 주고 받으면서
하나 되게 하는 밤

Within my pounding heart
which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave
And by the fortress walls
the wind would brush his hair against his brow
And with its smoothest hand
caressed my every sense it would allow

나의 모든 사랑을 주었던
삼나무 아래에서 언제나 그에게로만 향한
두근거리는 나의 가슴에 얼굴을
파묻고 그는 잠에 빠져 들었죠
성벽을 따라 불어 온 바람이
이마에 흩어진 그의 머리칼을 쓰다듬고는
한없이 부드러운 손길로 그 바람이
닿을 수 있는 나의 모든 감각을
감미롭게 어루만져 주었지요

Oh night thou was my guide
Oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other

아, 나의 안내자였던 그대, 밤
아, 떠오르는 태양보다 사랑스러운 밤
아, 사랑하는 사람과 사랑받는 사람이
서로 서로 사랑을 주고 받으면서
하나 되게 하는 밤

I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lovers breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the mornings mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair

난 잠든 그를 넋을 잃고 바라 보다가
사랑하는 그이의 가슴에 얼굴을 기댔죠
아침의 안개 사이로 햇살이 퍼져나갈 때
근심과 슬픔이 점점 희미해져 갔었지요
그랬답니다. 그 모든 근심과 슬픔이
만발한 백합꽃들 사이로 사라져 갔답니다

'로리나 맥케니트'는 캐나다 마니토바에서 태어났다.
어린시절 피아노와 보컬을 훈련 받았고, 후에는 하프 연주에 몰두했다고 한다.
그녀의 음악적인 토대인 켈틱 사운드는 신비스런 분위기와 더불어
민속 음악적인 경향도 가지고 있다.
켈틱 사운드는 대개 청승맞고 처량한 느낌을 가진 노래들이 많다.
때에 따라선 부드럽고 달콤한 동화가 되기도 하고...
한편 싸이키델릭 음악은 대개 거칠고 비정상적이며 격렬한 이미지들을 전개한다.
Loreena Mckennitt은
이러한 이질적 분위기를 잘 조화시켜 달콤하고도 나른한 음악을 만들어내고 있다.

캐나다 출신인 그녀는 Golden Bough 의 경우처럼 미국-캐나다 풍의 포크 뮤직보다 켈틱 사운드에 심취. 1인자 라고도 불리운다.
동화속의 요정같은 이미지를 갖고 싶어하는 신비주의적 경향이 강한 그녀이다.
그만한 상상력을 소리로 이미 구현하고 있는 것 같다.
열심히 여행하고, 책을 읽고, 다양한 악기를 연주하며,
노래를 만들고 직접 제작하는 행동파-실력파이니
요정의 꿈을꾸는것은 당연한 일일 것이다.
켈틱 사운드를 구사하는 캐나다 마니토바 출신의 Loreena Mckennitt


켈틱 사운드는 대개 청승맞고 처량한 느낌을 가진 노래들이 많은데 비해 로리나 맥키닛의 노랜 마냥 부드럽고 달콤하기만 하다. 예전부터 너무 좋아했던 탓인지 들을적마다 연신 감탄뿐이다. 간호사 어머니와 가축 무역업자 아버지의 딸, 여가수 Loreena McKennitt는 고전적인 피아노와 음성 트레이닝을 공부했고, 젊은이로서 산악 지방 스타일로 춤추는 것을 배웠다. 전통적인 음악에 대한 그녀 사랑은 그녀가 대학교에서 수의 과학을 공부하면서 매니토바의 간략한 시기 중에 자주 간 위니펙의 민속적인 클럽에서 시작되었다.



Stratford, 토론토에서 그녀는 계속해서 작곡가와 수행자로서 그녀의 기술을 갈고 닦으며 1981년에 도시의 셰익스피어 학자 극장에서 역할을 위해 오디션을 받았다. 비록 그녀가 역할을 얻지 않았기는 하지만 그녀는 이미 영감을 받는 채 있었다. 그 후 Diane Sward Rapaport의 책을 읽으면서 그녀는 그녀의 자신의 레이블, Quinlan 길을 만들었다. 그녀의 4번째 앨범은 4달만에 4만장 이상 팔렸다. Warner Canada에 의하여 분배되었을 때 앨범이 70만 이상을 팔았고 Juno(캐나다의 그래미상)을 받았다.

십자가의 성 요한(St. John of the Cross)은 영적인 메마름, 의심 그리고 하나님과 멀어진 이 시대를 ‘영혼의 어두운 밤(the dark night of the soul)’이라고 표현했다