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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Warlock's Lullaby

British composer Peter Warlock (b. Phillip Heseltine, 1894-1930) wrote this charming little lullaby as a Christmas carol in 1926. (You can hear the original here, in an arrangement by Andrew Carter.) 

I've re-written the lyrics slightly—certainly it could still be sung as a Yule carol—to make it into a general, any-time lullaby for any boy-child: baby god, baby warlock, or otherwise. 

For this I make no apologies. I suspect that a man who, because of his active interests in the occult, took the name "Warlock," would be delighted to know that witches were singing his song to their babies.

Absolutely delighted.

 Lullaby my Darling

Lullaby my darling, lullaby my king,

lullaby my lording, whom I sweetly sing.

Slumber softly, slumber on your mother's arm:

she will rock you, she will keep you safe from harm.

 

Lullaby my darling, lullaby my son,

lullaby my child, for whom this day is done.

Be at peace: soft dreams beguile you while you lie.

I will rock you, I will sing a lullaby.

 

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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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