We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Foxfire

by Emily Holbert

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    You'll also get a full-colour .pdf of the CD insert booklet!
    Purchasable with gift card

      $15 USD  or more

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Your own hard copy of the album, complete with artist's signature!

    Includes unlimited streaming of Foxfire via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Foxfire via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 10 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $17 USD or more 

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 3 Emily Holbert releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Wintersong, Foxfire, and Waves On The Shore. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $26.78 USD or more (15% OFF)

     

1.
Come and be welcome O wandering minstrel Spreading your music from city to town Be you harper or piper your duty is noble You carry the tunes that shall never die down Come from the forest and sit 'round the fire Come from the fields and enter our hall Come drink from the guest-cup, come join in the circle Come and be welcome, ye Bards, one and all Come and be welcome O noble court-poet The treasure of knowledge is kept in your words So unlock your riches of rhyme and of rhythm And let all the wealth of your wisdom be heard Come and be welcome O fair-voicéd singer Weaving the magic of music along You can thunder the heavens to raise up an army Or simply bring laughter and peace with a song Come and be welcome O rare tale-teller With stories of wonder you wisely recall Tell of the heroes that dwell live in our history For tales that are true are the best of them all Come and be welcome O fireside drummer With rhythms that echo the beat of the heart Now waken the music and call to the dancers The drum's beating pulse is a signal to start Come and be welcome where ever you hail from Share all the secrets and joys of your art For every new voice that joins in the chorus Uplifts the spirit and cheers the heart
2.
King Willie, he's sailed over the raging foam. He's wooed a wife and he's brought her home. He wooed her for her long golden hair. His mother wrought her a mighty care. A weary spell she's laid on her: She'd be with child for long and many's a year. But the child she would never bear. And in her bower she lies in pain. King Willie at her bed-head, he do stand. As down his cheeks the salten tears do run. King Willie back to his mother he did run And he's gone there as a begging son. Said: "Me true love has this fine noble steed, The like of which you ne'er did see. At every part of this horse's mane, There's hanging fifty silver bells and ten. There's hanging fifty bells and ten. This goodly gift, shall be your own. If back to my own true love you'll turn again That she might bear her baby son. Of the child, she'll never lighter be Nor from sickness will she e'r be free But she will die and she will turn to clay And you will wed with another maid. Then, sighing, said this weary man As back to his own true love he's torn again "I wish my life were at an end." King Willie back to his mother he did run And he's gone there as a begging son. Said: "Me true love has this fine golden girdle, Set with jewels all about the middle." At every part of this girdles hem. There's hanging fifty silver bells and ten. There's hanging fifty bells and ten. This goodly gift, shall be your own. If back to my own true love you'll turn again That she might bear her baby son. Oh, Of the child, she'll never lighter be Nor from sickness will she e'r be free But she will die and she will turn to clay And you will wed with another maid. Then, sighing, said this weary man As back to his own true love he's torn again "I wish my life were at an end." Then up and spoke his noble queen, And she has told King Willie of a plan How she might bear her baby son. She said: "You must go get you down to the market place And you must buy a you loaf of wax. And you must shape it as a babe that is to nurse. And you must make two eyes of glass. And ask your mother to a Christening day And you must stand there, close as you can be That you can hear what she do say. King Willie, he's gone down to the market place. And he has bought him a loaf of wax. And he has shaped it as a babe that is to nurse And he has made two eyes of glass. He asked his mother to the Christening day And he has stood there, as close as he could be That he might hear what she did say. How she spoke, and how she swore She spied the babe where no babe could be before She spied the babe where none could be before Says: "Who was it, who undid the nine witch knots, Braided in amongst this lady's locks. And who was it who unleashed the combs of care, Braided in amongst this lady's hair. And who was it slew the master kid That ran and slept all beneath this lady's bed That ran and slept all beneath her bed. And who was it unlaced her left shoe And who was it that let her lighter be That she might bear her baby boy. And it was Willie who undid the nine witch knots Braided in amongst this lady's locks. And it was Willie who unleashed the combs of care, Braided in amongst this lady's hair. And it was Willie the master kid did slay And it was Willie who unlaced her left foot shoe And he has let her lighter be. And she has born of a baby son And great are the blessings that be them upon And great are the blessings them upon
3.
I am the wounded Queen My knights have done me wrong For they have gone to hunt the Grail And have left the Court too long They have left the Court too long I am the wounded Queen Though none can see my pain For I’m in love with my husband’s own knight And great it is my shame Yes, great would be the shame I am the Wounded Queen Though my heart beats in my breast My heart is now broke in two And never shall I rest No, never do I rest I am the wounded Queen Though I love my Lord full well I love my own Love true And deep as any well So much deeper than I tell I am the wounded Queen Though my heart beats in my breast My heart it is broke in two And never shall I rest And never may I rest No, never may we rest
4.
I came from beneath the green hills of the sidhe With gold and with cattle your wife for to be Now I bear you a daughter and also a son But Crunnuic, my husband, what have you begun? Is this how your repay me? By your boasting, husband, you’ve betrayed me So I’ll run for your pleasure, and damn all you cowards Who’ve watched me in pain, may your lot be the same ‘Till the ninth generation I curse those to blame For my anguish and shame, may your lot be the same O Great King, what fine horses you own Like the steeds of Manannan that run on the foam Do these wondrous creatures come so soon to bore you That I who am pregnant must run races for you? Beware, O great King! Of the bards and the satires they’ll sing… People of Ulster, defend what is true For a woman, a mother bore each man of you Stand up for the rights of a woman in pain Lest all of this land bear my curse an my name Will no man speak free? Then you’ll soon feel the wrath of the sidhe! For the pride of the Ulaid, the king, and the boast May all your strength fail you when you need it most And as I’ve born by children alone and in pain Shall you each feel such birth-pangs Again and again and again and again and again!
5.
Let the farmer praise his grounds, Let the huntsman praise his hounds, Let the shepherd praise his dewy scented lawn; Oh, but I, more wise than they, Spend each happy night and day With my darling little crúiscín lán, lán, lán, My darling little crúiscín lán! O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,— Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín. Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán, O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán. Immortal and divine, Great Bacchus, god of wine, Create me by adoption your own son; In hope that you'll comply, That me glass may ne'er run dry. Nor my darling little crúiscín lán, lán, lán, Oh, my darling little crúiscín lán! And when grim death appears, In a few but happy years, And says, “Oh, won't you come along with me?” I'll say, “Begone, ye knave, For King Bacchus gave me leave To take another crúiscín lán, lán, lán, To take another crúiscín lán!” Then fill your glasses high, Let's not part with lips so dry, Though the lark now proclaims it is the dawn; And since we can't remain, May we shortly meet again, To fill another crúiscín lán, lán, lán, To fill another crúiscín lán!
6.
Why, oh why, the thorn and the thread? And wherefore the nettles and loom? A sister in silence is stitching the shirts But the ravens go flying so soon Hold to the silence for three years more The curses to break and the boys to restore The sharp, quiet sting is the cost And the hope for the brothers not lost Why, oh why, the dirt ‘neath the nail? And where came the soil on the hem? And will she not tell us? And still she won’t speak But the ravens are crying again. Hold to the silence for three months more The curses to break and the boys to restore Now the is a small hole in the ground Let the earth take my sorrow and sound Why, oh why, the blood on the sheet? And where went the babe from the bed? I tried, I tried to fight back the sleep But the ravens had flown off instead Hold to the silence for three hours more The curses to break and the boys to restore As they’re leading me down to the fire Will I find my salvation or pyre? Hold to the silence for three minutes more The curses to break and the boys to restore My breath I will draw like a knife To shake off our shackles and sever our strife As ravens return with the shirts in the beaks And I speak Faith will win family free Though one black wing still beats
7.
Boudicca 03:22
First you came ‘cross the seas in the name of your Caesar Bringing wine, bringing oil, bringing gold and bringing trade Brought first by tradesmen, then statesmen, and lastly by the legions Who bring deceit and subjugation to all those who’d not been swayed What was given as a gift you have claimed as a tribute Those who lead the tribes as chiefs you now mere ‘client kings’ In the hills and the fields and the homes of my people All you see is land for Empire and the riches Britain brings [For] I’ve a sword in my hand and her name is called Justice I’ve a shield on my arm and by Honour it is known And the name I now bear is The Bringer of Victory For Boudicca leads her people from the chariot of War You denied my right to rule with a false will for my husband My own daughters you’ve despoiled and my warriors you’ve killed But though you’ve burnt all my crops and have beaten my body Know for all of this injustice shall the blood of Rome be spilled In the name of the Peace of your Senate and People You have plundered British lands and have murdered all my kin But we say to you now that the tribes shall live freely - We reject your Pax Romana and by battle we shall win! Here I stand at the gates of the city you hide in Here I wait with the tribes that band behind the Icenii Here I swear by the names of the gods of my people That though Rome may rule Britannia still you never shall rule me!
8.
Tourdion 02:12
Quand je bois du vin clairet, Ami tout tourne, tourne, tourne, tourne, Aussi dsormais je bois Anjou ou Arbois, Chantons et buvons, ã ce flacon faisons la guerre Chantons et buvons, mes amis, buvons donc! Buvons bien, l buvons donc A ce flacon faisons la guerre. En mangeant d'un gras jambon, ce flacon faisons la guerre!
9.
Stolen 05:46
They say that love lies waiting Like a pebble on the shore ‘Till the day that it is ready to be found But love can be a hunter In pursuit of something more Or love can be a creature caught and bound He caught her as if waiting Like the pebbles on the shore Bathing in the moonlight and the sea Her hair was softly gleaming And was all the lady wore Her seal-skin tossed aside so carelessly You’ve stolen my heart, you’ve stolen my skin Some day I’ll steal them back from you again The sighing of the sea waves And the singing of the seals Mask the sounds of his footsteps on the strand The shadows of the moonlight Hide his progress as he steals Closer to her treasure lying in the sand She only had a moment To behold him where he stood Her seal-skin clasped so close against his breast The spell of love descended And there she understood That in the sea she nevermore could rest You’ve stolen my heart, you’ve stolen my skin Someday I’ll steal them back from you again The face within her mirror Showed a girl so gay and fair She often half-forgot her other guise But the darkness of the ocean Seems bound within her hair And a seal gazes outward from her eyes With love she bore his children And with love she baked his bread With love she always gazed towards the sea Torn between the one life With the man that she had wed And the seal-life she’d known when she’d been free You’ve stolen my heart, you’ve stolen my skin Someday I’ll steal them back from you again The day she found his secret Hidden underneath the floor She wept as she slipped into her skin The bonds that held her captured Broke like waves upon shore The seal replaced the girl that she had been They say if you love something Then you ought to let it free Love that’s held in fetters isn’t true You cannot serve to masters And my first one was the sea I loved her long before I had loved you You’d stolen my heart, you’d stolen my skin But today I stole them back from you again
10.
Once a fair and handsome seal-lord lay his foot upon the sand For to woo the fisher’s daughter and to claim her marriage hand I have come in from the ocean, I have come in from the sea And I’ll not go to the waves, love, lest ye come along with me Lord, long have I loved you as a selkie on the foam I would gladly go and wed ye and be lady of your home But I cannot go in to ocean, I cannot go into the sea I would drown beneath you waves love if I went along with thee Lady, long have I loved you: I would have you from my wife I shall stay upon your shore land though it robs me of my life I’ll never go back to the ocean, never go back to the sea I shall stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me Lord I cannot go and wed thee all to watch my lover die Since I’ll not be left a widow I have a plan for us to try Let us speak with my grandmother who’s ever dwelt beside the sea She may not some trick or treasure that I may web my fair selkie So they’ve gone to her grandmother’s little cottage by the sea To inquire how the maiden could be wed to her selkie For the seal-lord’s watery kingdom’d surely rob her of her breath But to stay on land past midnight, that would surely be his death Lord I know not how to aid you, you may never live on shore For your kind to live past dawning has never been seen before But my mother had a seal coat that she buried ‘neath a tree For she told me any wearer would become a fair selkie So they’ve journeyed farther inland thought the seal-lord’s getting weak And she’s shouldering a shovel to unearth that thing they seek And at the rising of the full moon, underneath the elfin oak She’s unearthed that very treasure of which her grandmother spoke So just before the stroke of midnight they have made it back to sea And she’s donned that magic seal-coat and become a maid selkie Now they’ve gone into the ocean, hand in hand into the sea She has gone along, A fair seal-bride for her selkie
11.
I roved out three years ago While sank the sun into the West My mother’s words far from my mind My love’s name singing in my breast Wandering, lost in love or dream I followed the path of the winding stream Until I reached the Washers’ ford And there I thought to stop and rest Yet when I reached the singing falls Another soul was standing there A washerwoman, old and grey Faded flowers in her hair Though she was stooping to her task Blythely I went to her and asked “Good woman, if you’re growing weary I have some apples we may share.” Slowly did she turn to me Then gave a little smile “I thank you for your kindness, maid, And soon shall rest a while. I’ve rarely met one so giving Among the dead or of the living! I shall share you apples soon As I have finished my travail.” The sunset stained the water Crimson beside her heap of work The dusk crept in the forests And the day would short grow dark “Thou art old, while I a maid Let you take rest and take my aid” “If your wish” said she, “but you “Must wash this torn and bloody sark.” I halted for a moment Then I bent as I’d been told: Took the torn and bloodstained garment, Plunged it in the river cold. Yet as I washed the linen fine I recognized the stitches mine Upon the very shirt I’d sewn For my true love, brave and bold! Too late remembered I the tale Of the Laundress of the dead: Who’ll cleanse the clothes of those new-slain When river’s sun-stained red, Who wait beside the bloody stream And for their lovers loudly keen. Too late then did I understand That I was trapped, and he was dead. Softly then the woman wept “I never meant you ill! Never did I think to have My freedom bought by your good will.” But dumbly did I face my plight As a dying sun bled into night; I shed a tear for my love gone Then took my washing underhill. Now I wash by the waterside As the sun is flaming red And cleanse the clothes of those new-slain And hear their names upon the wind Fair one, do not let aid nor grief Entrap you her as my relief But fly now home to weep and keen For by this blood your love is dead.
12.
Sleep my darling, my only I am your rose, for you I’m blooming There is no wind that can shake me There is no storm that can break me O my darling I still bloom for you Sleep my darling, my only I am your wolf, for you I’m howling There is no hunter can find me There is no chain can bind me O my darling I still sing for you Sleep my darling, my only I am your bright sun, for you I’m shining There is no cloud that can hid me There is no night that will not guide you / to me O my darling I will rise to you

about

For over 15 years, I've built a reputation a Bard both within and beyond the medieval re-creation community. A Bard performs the songs of her people, retells the stories so they live again, can make her audience laugh and cry, rise up cheering or lay down to sleep. I have to be ready to sing in any weather, in any environment -- from a loud hall full of feasting and revelry, to a brightly burning fire on a late misty evening.

"Foxfire" attempts to capture these brief, shining moments of music shared when people gather to hear the bards sing. My friend Luke said it best: "This is recording without a safety net." It's raw, seldom perfect, but live and honest to the bard's work. I hope you'll enjoy sharing the guest cup with me!

credits

released June 18, 2016

license

tags

about

Emily Holbert Kitchener, Ontario

Emily Holbert, known as “Emer nic Aidan” in the SCA, is a Celtic-inspired singer/songwriter based in Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario. Her “bardic-folk” songs tell tales of love and valour, whether recounting and reinventing Celtic mythologies and faerie tales, or recording ‘historical’ deeds within the SCA's Kingdom of Ealdormere.
Let her take you back to a time when bards sang around the fire!
... more

contact / help

Contact Emily Holbert

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this album or account

Emily Holbert recommends:

If you like Emily Holbert, you may also like: