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Summary: A
knight is lying wounded and the birds tell him that he should
find the witch of the westmorland who will make him as good
as new. With the help of his many animal friends he finds
her. The thing is, she is a half woman, half horse monster
and in return for healing and also immortality she wants
sex! He chooses (it seems) to have the sex.
Moral: Not so much
a moral as a question for this one. If you had to choose
between death and immortality gained through sex with a
half horse, which would you choose?
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Pale was the
wounded knight, that bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the
field
Saying "Beck water cold and clear will never clean
your wound
There's none but the witch of the Westmoreland can make
thee hale and soond"
So turn, turn your stallion's head 'til his
red mane flies in the wind
And the rider of the moon goes by and the bright star falls
behind
And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him
by
below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the
owlet cry
Saying "Why do you ride this way, and
wherefore came you here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westmorland that dwells by
the winding mere"
And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern
way
Til throught the cleft in the Kirkstane Pass the winding
water lay
He said "Lie down, by brindled hound
and rest ye, my good grey hawk
And thee, my steed may graze thy fill for I must dismount
and walk,
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call
For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve
me best of all"
And it's down to the water's brim he's born
the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in to see what the lake might
yield
And wet she rose from the lake, and fast and fleet went
she
One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's
body
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And loud, long
and shrill he blew til his steed was by his side
High overhead the grey hawk flew and swiftly did he ride
Saying "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me
the jet black mare
Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden
fair"
She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword.
Lay down thy rown shield
For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded
in the field"
And she stood in a gown of the velvet blue, bound round
withh a silver chain
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice and three
times round again
And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod,
full fast in her arms he lay
And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the
day
She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and
your good grey hawk in hand
There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch
of the Westmorland."
Additional Information:
This song featured in Dave's Angle
on episode 3 of the Garden Sessions FREE fortnightly internet
radio show (or Podcast).
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