Get all 13 GreenMatthews releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Songs of the Sea, Festive Favourites, The Wind in the Willows, Virtual Wassail, Midwinter Revels, Roots&Branches, Come Again! Sweet Love Doth Now Invite (live), A Christmas Carol: A Folk Opera, and 5 more.
1. |
Winter Fair
03:30
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The warmth of summer is long since fled
And Jack of the Green lies sleeping
Beneath the earth he’s laid his head
And soundly slumbers there
But though the wintry fingers of
His brother Jack Frost come creeping
Forget your woes and cold red nose
And come to the winter fair
There’s roasted hogs and spicy ale
And perry and cider mulling
There’s songs and stories and tricks and tales
To drive your cares away
There’s friends of old, ones yet untold,
There’s merriment, mirth and fooling
So put off your care, to the winter fair
Make haste upon your way
Of all the twelve December is
The cruellest and least embracing.
Of all the seasons the winter is
The loneliest of the four.
Too often minds to dark incline
When winter’s sadness they’re facing.
The shortened days and absent rays
Make spirits low and poor.
So cast your frets and worries aside
And haste to our merry meeting.
The logs are ablaze by the fireside
There’s vittles and drink prepared.
We’ll feast and wassail, with cakes and ale
And though it be snowing or sleeting
We’ll warm with cheer and fellowship here
As we dance at the winter fair
We wish you good cheer and a Happy New Year
As we dance at the winter fair
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2. |
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While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
all seated on the ground,
the angel of the Lord came down,
and glory shone around.
Sweet bells, sweet chiming Christmas bells (x2)
They lead us on our heavenward way
Sweet chiming bells
"Fear not," said he, for mighty dread
had seized their troubled mind;
"Glad tidings of great joy I bring
to you and all mankind.
Sweet bells, sweet chiming Christmas bells (x2)
They lead us on our heavenward way
Sweet chiming bells
"To you, in David's town, this day
is born of David's line
a Savior, who is Christ the Lord;
and this shall be the sign:
All glory be to God on high
and on earth be peace;
good will henceforth from heaven to me
begin and never cease.
Sweet bells, sweet chiming Christmas bells (x2)
They lead us on our heavenward way
Sweet chiming bells
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3. |
Somerset Wassail
03:19
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Wassail, oh wassail all over the town
Our cup it is white and the ale it is brown
Our wassail it is made of the good old ashen tree
And so is the malt of the best barley
It's your wassail, it's our wassail
And it's joy be to you and a jolly wassail
Oh master and missus, are you all within?
Pray open up the door and let us all come in
O master and missus a-sitting by the fire
Pray think on us poor travelers, a-travelling in the mire
It's your wassail, it's our wassail
And it's joy be to you and a jolly wassail
Oh where is the maid with the silver-headed pin
To open up the door and to let us all come in
Oh master and missus, it is our great desire
For a loaf and some cheese and a toast by the fire
It's your wassail, it's our wassail
And it's joy be to you and a jolly wassail
There was an old man and he had an old brown cow
And how for to keep her he did not know how
He built up a barn for to keep his old cow warm
And a drop or two of cider will do us no harm
It's your wassail, it's our wassail
And it's joy be to you and a jolly wassail
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4. |
Peasants and Pages
07:30
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The King sits in his oaken hall
In his robes so rich and fine-o
He’s gnawing on a roasted haunch
And drinking blood-red wine-o
And pine logs crackle in the hearth
And fill the room with cheer-o
Upon the board lie meat and cheeses
Puddings, pies and beer-o
The wind blows chill and raw without
Snow covers the horizon
And through the storm a figure plods
Who catches the King’s eye
“Come hither, page - who is that man
Out there, pray do me tell-o
Why does he trudge through frost and rime
and whither does he dwell-o?”
“Good sire,” the gentle page replied
“I know not how he’s named-o,
But sure his hovel yonder lies
Beyond the holy spring
“Then bundle up these rinds and skins
Likewise these scraps and bones-o
We’ll take them them to his home straightways
Where he dwells all alone-o.
He’ll never have such a feast beheld
As we bring him this night-o
And in his joy and nourishment
I’ll take such a delight-o
For is it not the season when
The great give to the least-o
So bundle up the remnants of
The yester’s Yuletide feast-o”.
They set out through the wind and snow
In front the King so bold-o
Behind the little page bent low
The pack across his shoulder
The snow fell fast, the frost crept in
The wind roared ever colder
Beneath the heavy pack the page
Sank low and ever lower
“Good sire, the burden weighs me down
The chill me overcomes-o
I have no shoes to warm my feet
They’re lifeless and they’re numb-o”
“Fear not, my page, for my fine boots
Are lined with fleece and fur-o.
Place your feet in the prints I leave
They’ll warm you to the marrow”.
Late was the hour when they arrived
At the hovel of the fellow.
“Why what a poor, mean place is this!”
So loud the King he said-o
He flung the door wide there to find
The man beside the bed-o
A-weeping and grieving
For his wife and babe so dead-o.
“A tragedy!” the King exclaimed
“What cruel fate has done so
To take this poor man’s wife and child
Upon the feast of Stephen?
How could such a cruel thing unfold
Upon the Christmas season?"
“Good sire,” the page replied “I will
Tell you the very reason.”
“In summer this man’s wife fell sick,
In autumn then his babe-o
But taxes still he had to find
And carried on to labour-o.
His taxes paid, no gold remained
To pay for food and nursing
And so they both grew sicker still
And ever since been worsening.
The taxes went unto the Crown
This poor man’s overlord-o.
He laboured for your comfort, sire
And see now his reward-o -
A bundle of cold scraps and rind
As sop for Christmas given,
But this poor gift can ne’er bring back
His loved ones no more living.”
But let it now be always told
How on one feast of Stephen
The good King and his page went forth
On deep snow crisp and even.
And let one good deed cancel out
The ill deeds of the ages.
For tales we tell of deeds of kings
Not of peasants nor of pages.
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5. |
Innocent's Song
03:18
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Who's that knocking at the window,
Who's that standing at the door,
What are all those presents
Laying on the kitchen floor?
Who is the smiling stranger
With his hair as white as gin,
What is he doing with the children
Who could have let him in?
Why has he rubies on his fingers,
And a crown upon his head,
Why, when he caws his carol,
Does the salty snow turn red?
Why does he ferry my fireside
Like a spider on a thread,
His fingers made of fuses
And his tongue of gingerbread?
Why does the world before him
Melt in a million suns,
Why do his yellow, yearning eyes
Burn like saffron buns?
Watch when he comes walking
Out of the Christmas flame,
Dancing, double-talking:
Herod is his name.
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6. |
The Christmas Goose
03:22
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It was at an inn in Manchester - "The Cornstalks" was the sign
A famous public where commercials used to sleep and dine
One Christmas time a traveller so oft had been his use
Called to spend his holidays and choose his Christmas goose
He drank his pint of sherry wine, he smoked a mild cigar,
He chatted with the customers and people at the bar;
But not a thought of wickedness e’er entered in his head,
Until the chambermaid appeared to light him up to bed.
Oh! All around the greenwood so early in the morn
The merry merry huntsman blows his silver bugle horn
But then he grew so amorous, he squeezed her on the stairs,
He kissed her at the chamber door before he said his prayers;
He gave to her a guinea to prevent her being vexed,
And then he blew the candle out and you can guess the rest.
Next morning this lothario discharged his little bill,
He tipped the Boots and tossed the landlord for a parting gill;
But where he went to afterwards it’s not for me to say;
Suffice he came to choose his goose that very next Christmas Day.
Oh! All around the greenwood so early in the morn
The merry merry huntsman blows his silver bugle horn
Next Christmas Time came round again which filled his heart with glee;
He’d wandered round from town to town and strange sights did he see;
Till he ended up in Manchester and put up for the night
At that same inn which twelve months past had filled him with delight.
He went into the coffee room as jaunty as could be,
Where many a rooster like himself was waiting for his tea.
He ordered of the very best the landlord could produce
And called the waiter back to say, ‘Now don’t forget the goose.’
Oh! All around the greenwood so early in the morn
The merry merry huntsman blows his silver bugle horn
Right speedily a tray was brought with eatables galore,
And by that self-same chambermaid he’d kissed twelve months before;
But nothing loth, he raised the cloth whereon a heap was piled;
Instead of food thereon was a big fat bumping child.
Enraged at seeing others laugh, ‘What is this here?’ said he.
‘Come sit you down beside me and I’ll tell you, sir,’ said she.
‘Last Christmas you so generous were, pray do not look so strange,
You gave to me a guinea and I’ve brought you back your change.
Oh! All around the greenwood so early in the morn
The merry merry huntsman blows his silver bugle horn
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7. |
The Villagers of Châtres
02:44
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The villagers of Châtres and those of Montlery
Upon this glorious night rejoiced and danced with glee
For Jesus Christ was born as told in song and fable
And in a manger then was laid
Between the ox and ass where they
Stood in a lowly stable
The angels to the fields came in a shining throng
And to the shepherds told glad tidings with their song
That in a byre mean the Son of God was lying
The offspring of a virgin's womb
Who from above to Earth had come
To save all men from dying
They left their flocks and took their bagpipes and their shawms
To where the angels said the Son of God was born
And lustily they sang and played a merry bourrée
Upon their way across the moor until at last they stood before
The manger where the child lay
And from the hamlet of St-Germain close nearby
There came the village band across the countryside
And as they came upon the stable and the manger
They joined the shepherds' pipes and shawms
with drums and trumpet fifes and horns
To hail the holy stranger
And then came Father John, the vicar of Églis
Who brought a cask of wine to make us all merry
and with him came his schoolboys, who in heavenly chorus
Sang out a hymn of welcome to Jesus Christ the new-born King
Born on this blest night for us
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8. |
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Es ist ein Ros entsprungen
Aus einer Wurzel zart
Die uns die Alten sungen
Von Jesse kam die Art
Und hat ein Blümlein bracht
Mitten im kalten Winter
Wohl zu der halben Nacht
Das Röslein, das ich meine
Davon Jesaia sagt
Maria ist die Reine
Die uns das Blümlein bracht
Aus Gottes ew'gem Rat
Hat sie ein Kind geboren
Und bleib ein Reine magt.
O Jesu, bis zum Scheiden
Aus diesem Jammertal
Lass dein Hilf uns geleiten
Hin in den Freudensaal
In deines Vaters Reich
Da wir dich ewig loben
O Gott, uns das verleih
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9. |
Hey For Christmas!
03:00
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Come one, come all, come Christmas time,
Come hear the music call you on,
To eat the vittles and drink the wine
And dance away the whole night long.
There’s Robin and Ralph and Harry too
They'll come and meet upon the green
With Betty andBridget, Sal and Sue
The finest wenches ever seen.
Hey! for Christmas once a year,
When we have cakes, both ale and beer;
To the Christmas feast they come,
Young men and maids to shake their bums.
There's a piper for to play the dance
When all the lads and lasses meet,
And men and maids away they dance
And follow the piper down the street.
Oh how they side and turn about
So nimbly go around the other;
And when that they have danced it out
They call the piper to play another.
Hey! for Christmas once a year,
When we have cakes, both ale and beer;
To the Christmas feast they come,
Young men and maids to shake their bums.
Thus they did dance from morn till night;
Til they were as merry as cup and can
Till they had tired the piper quite
And sweat all down their buttocks ran.
Then they unto Hot Cockles went,
But Sal gave Betty a blow too hard,
And down together smash they went
And all their sporting soon was marred.
Hey! for Christmas once a year,
When we have cakes, both ale and beer;
To the Christmas feast they come,
Young men and maids to shake their bums.
They took the piper, cracked his head,
His pipes they threw into the fire;
So drunk as they were nearly dead
And slept where they fell in the mire.
Hey! for Christmas once a year,
When we have cakes, both ale and beer;
To the Christmas feast they come,
Young men and maids to shake their bums.
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10. |
The Darkling Thrush
04:02
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I leaned upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
A full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
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GreenMatthews Coventry, UK
Chris Green and Sophie Matthews play English traditional songs and tunes in a thoroughly 21st-century kick-ass style. Using a blend of ancient instruments such as cittern, English bagpipes and shawm as well as modern folk instruments such as guitar, flute and piano accordion, they breathe new life into material from hundreds of years ago, making it fresh and relevant for a modern audience. ... more
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