When A Knight Won His Spurs

When A Knight Won His Spurs

..

(Traditional Arrangement Abridged M. Simpson)

When a knight won His spurs in the stories of old

He was gentle and brave he was gallant and bold

With a shield on His arm and a lance in His hand

For God and for valour he rode through the land

No charger have I and no sword by my side

Yet still to adventure and battle I ride

Though back into storyland giants have fled

And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead

Let faith be my shield and let joy be my steed

'Gainst the dragons of anger the ogres of greed

And let me set free with the sword of my youth

From the castle of darkness the power of the truth

Andrew Lammie

Andrew Lammie

(Traditional Arrangement Abridged, M. Simpson)

At Mill o' Tifty there lived a man
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie
And he had a fine lovely daughter dear
Whose name was Bonnie Annie

Her bloom was like the springing flower
That hails the rosy morning
With innocence and grace likewise
Her lovely face adorning

Now Fyvie had a trumpeter
Whose name was Andrew Lammie
And he had the art for to gain the heart
Of Mill o' Tifty's Annie

Proper he was, both young and gay
His like was not in Fyvie
Nor was one there that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie

Lord Fyvie he rode by the door
Where lived this Tifty's Annie
And his trumpeter rode him before
Even this same Andrew Lammie

Her mother called her to the door
Saying, “Come here to me, my Annie
Did you ever see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter o' Fyvie?”

Nothing she said, but sighing sore
Alas for Bonnie Annie
For she dared not own that her heart was won
By the trumpeter o' Fyvie

At night when all went to their bed
All slept full soon but Annie
Love so oppressed her tender breast
Thinking on Andrew Lammie

“The first time me and my love met
Twas in the woods o' Fyvie
And his lovely form and his speech so soft
Soon won the heart of Annie”



And her father soon a letter wrote
And he sent it on to Fyvie
To say his daughter was bewitched
By the servant Andrew Lammie

Then up the stairs his trumpeter
He called full soon and shortly
“Pray tell me now what is this you've done
To Mill o' Tifty's Annie?”

In wicked art I had no part
Nor therein am I canny
It was love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's Bonnie Annie

“Had she been born as rich in kin
As she is rich in beauty
I would have taken the lass myself
And made her queen of Fyvie”

“Oh, Fyvie's lands are far and wide
And they are wondrous bonny
But I would not trade my own dear love
For all your lands of Fyvie”

At this her father did her scorn
And likewise did her mother
And her sisters too did her disown
But woe be to her brother

For her brother struck her wondrous sore
With cruel blows and many
And he broke her back on the temple stone
All for liking Andrew Lammie



“Oh mother, father, sisters dear
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love
Now my brother's broke my body

“Oh mother, mother oh make my bed
And turn my face to Fyvie
And it's there I'll lie and there I'll die
For the servant Andrew Lammie”

At Mill o' Tifty there lived a man
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie
And he had a fine lovely daughter dear
Whose name was Bonnie Annie.

Down in Yon Forest

Down in Yon Forest

(Originally published in Ink and Fairydust, Christmas Edition 2017)

A blanket of crisp yule tide snow caresses the hamlet. Smoke rises up from the chimneys of the wooden houses nestled in the Valley of the Teign. The dawn is breaking and there is light in the windows. Snow flakes caress all vestiges of life, and the first of God's children rises from her slumber. Her soul stirs as she awakes, as she is profusely and profoundly in love, for today is the day when the gentle Christ child reigns in all Christian hearts. She kneels before her bed in pious love for her Lord Jesus. Her prayers ascend with the chimney smoke as this sacred incense floats heavenward above the forest. In this corner of olde England the pagans are put to flight as peace is laid upon the land. King Alfred's sceptred isle is won for the Christ child this holy day, and throughout this sceptred realm the incarnation reigns in transcendent peace as impious imps are turned into stone. Only love remains this Christian day.

Her transcendent morning prayers are assumed into the vaults of heaven, as the Queen of Heaven looks down and beholds a small heart on fire with such sincere piety. The saints of the medieval age look on from the Throne of Grace and give praise for this blessing. God's loves shines upon her overflowing grace filled heart as angels are dispatched to the forest to deliver the gentlest of consolations this yule tide morn. Heart on fire and soul ablaze with the love of the incarnate one, her heart breaking with love is illuminated by holy fire. She muses "such a small child in swaddling clothes, the hope of all mankind. I love my Lord Jesus above everything. How can it be that my Lord Jesus loves me? How can it be that my good Lord endows my soul with such sweet consolation this day?"

Whilst at prayer her heart quickens as she hears the bells of paradise ring and she runs to the church as angels flock gently down from their heavenly realm to assure her safe passage through the bough laden path. 

Purple was the colour of the King child's robes that morning. White was the mantle of the land all adorned. Red was the colour of the maids shawl that morning, as she ran through the forest floor.

The valley is filled with the call to worship as the priest vests the precious chasuble of the Lord's day in the sacristy. The men and boys descend from the valley tops to serve in the presence of the blemishless King to be slain on the altar. The air is still as heavenly peace descends at the sound of the sacred vesting prayers. Our maid is radiant with a brides love this Christian morn, as she awaits Our Lord Jesus at the wedding supper of her beloved Lamb.

A Lamb to be born this Christian day 

A Lamb to be slain to take my sin away

St. Michael attends by the altar side

The bread to be sanctified and cast away my pride

  Down in yon forest pious hearts won by Christ's sting

I love my Lord Jesus above everything.