Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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The Day Dawn: The Paganistani Version

 

Our story so far:

Since the 17th century (at least) the rising of the Sun on Yule Morning has been greeted in Shetland with the plaintive and darkly beautiful fiddle tune The Day Dawn. For four hundred years (at least), the tune had words no more than the birdsong which greets the same dawn.

Then, a few years back, Jane Hazelden wrote lyrics for The Day Dawn. They're good, maybe even very good: as good a nutshell definition of Yule as any that ever I've heard and, indeed, better than most.

But they don't quite fit the tune.

To fit her new words to the old fiddle tune, Hazelden has truncated some of the musical phrasing, notably certain repetitions and, in so doing—to my ear, at least—thereby diminished something of the tune's integrity, and dulled something of its luminosity.

(Forgive me, giver, if I destroy the gift, the Goddess once, through Laura Riding, told Robert Graves: It is so nearly what I want, I cannot help but perfect it.)

So I've tweaked Hazelden's lyrics to fit the original tune by matching verbal repetitions to the musical ones.

Well, you be the judge. Maybe you're a fiddler and don't need words at all to sing the Sun his Old Song.

But out on the bridge, singing the Sun up out of the Mississippi valley on Solstice morning, these are the words that I'll be singing myself.

So join me if you will.

 

The Day Dawn

 

It's the dawning of the turning of the year, of the year
It's the coming of the growing of the light
It's the leaving-by of what is past and done, past and done
It's the turning round and facing to the Sun, to the Sun

It's the day dawn of the New Year
So rise up and open your doors
and come show good friendship, good friendship and cheer
At the dawning of the turning, of the turning of the year


It's the coming of the greening of the Earth, of the Earth
It's the leaving of the time of dark and dearth
It's the sharing of the good that we have done, we have done
It's the turning round and facing to the Sun, to the Sun

It's the day dawn of the New Year
So rise up and open your doors
and come show good friendship, good friendship and cheer
At the dawning of the turning, of the turning of the year

 

Lyrics: Jane Hazelden (with expansions by Steven Posch)

Tune: Shetland traditional, Da Day Dawe (17th century?)

 

 

 

 

 

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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

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