THE ASHEN STAVE

SONGS
By LESLIE A. PAUL ("Little Otter")

WOODCUTS
By W. C. BOONE ("Brown Owl")

All rights reserved.

Published by W. C. BOONE,
1, SUDBURY CRESCENT, DOWNHAM, BROMLEY, KENT.
ONE SHILLING,

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I MAKE no apologies for venturing, with the help of my colleague Brown Owl, to issue in one volume the songs 1 have written from time to time and that have appeared scattered through the various publications of the Woodcraft Folk or in Co‑operative journals.

With one or two exceptions they were written for singing and, 1 am proud to say, they are sung at least at the council fires of the Folk. Those who delight in singing them will, I hope, find this little pocket volume of much use.

Several of the snatches and rounds are not of my authorship. I am not sure where some of them come from, but they are sung so often round our camp fires that their omission would be a definite loss. "The Wayfarers' Song" is an adaptation of an old tramping song I heard sung, but never saw printed. I mention this lest 1 should have unwittingly plagiarised some unknown author. As for the rest of the songs they are mine own ducklings, and the writing of them was a singing lark.

LITTLE OTTER.

THE VIRTUOUS LIFE

Tune‑ Traditional.

It is good to lie 'neath the starlit sky,
To rise when the night is winged by,
To joy and be strong in the light of the sun
And swift in the dawn the hills to run,
To strike a straight trail in a crooked age,
And leave your mark on the thinker's page.

It is good to be gay and keen and brown,
To swing o'er the road from the smoky town,
To mingle with folk at a woodcraft camp,
Or hump your pack for a ten‑mile tramp.
It is good to live for the dreams you hold,
To be young and brave in your scorn of gold.
It is good to be one with the birds and trees,
To lift your head in the laughing breeze,
To be friends with the stars and the pine trees tall,
To sing round the fire when the owlets call.
It is good to love life and to play the great game
To keep life's torch with the fire aflame.

SONG OF THE WAY

Tune‑ Traditional.

Under clean and sunlit skies
Now shall outdoor folk arise,
Swing the song to the tramp of feet
On England's hills where the wind is sweet.

Chorus
Oh ! the dawn is red and the air is keen;
He liveth long who wears the green,
And under the blue and the gold of day
We sing as we follow the woodcraft way.

Gorse abloom and thorn aglow,
Scent of hay when the wind's ablow,
Clover wild and bees a‑hum,
Blackbird whistling “Goodfolk, come”­

Heart's aflame at beauty's bud,
Pulsing life in outlaw blood:
Spring astir through the morning haze,
So singeth thrush in summer's praise.

Sun‑kissed girl and supple boy,
Song and dance shall you employ.
Wings the hope from the searching mind
Of sun‑wrought life for human kind.

A CRAVEN SOUL

Tune‑ Traditional.

Alas for the slave of the great god grind,
He's sold his body and he's pawned his mind.
Alas for the man whose soul finds glee
In buses and bets and afternoon tea.
Oh a craven soul is he, a craven soul is be.

Hurrah for the man in the jerkin green,
His heart is great and his brain is keen;
His tent's on the hill, and his fire's in the dell,
And none is there loves life so well.
Oh an outlaw bold is he, an outlaw bold is he.

THE GREAT GOD PAN

Tune ”Old King Cole."

1st Verse
Oh, the Great God Pan was a merry, merry man,
And a merry, merry man was he!
By the fire he sate and scratched his pate
And he called for his Greensticks three.
Now every Greenstick as you know
Is very fond of crying –“Ho!”
“Why do tents have guys?” said the Greenstick.
Merry, merry men are we, there's none they say
So blithe and gay as the folk of the Greenwood tree.

2nd Verse
"I'm a rolling stone," said the Mossback.
"Why do tents have guys ?" said the Greenstick.
Merry, merry men are we, etc.

3rd Verse
"Plates up, plates up, plates," said the Campcook.
"I'm a rolling stone," said the Mossback
"Why do tents have guys ? " etc.

4th Verse
"Let's have all your litter," said the Keeper.
"Plates up, plates up, plates," etc.

5th Verse
"Birchbark, twigs and pine," said the Fireman.
"Let's have all your litter,' etc.

6th Verse
"I know the woodland folk," said the Warden.
"Birchbark, twigs and pine," etc.

7th Verse
"I'll tell a Brer Rabbit ' yarn,' " said the Spinner.
"I know the woodland folk," etc.

8th Verse
"I create and carve," said the Master.
"I'll tell a Brer Rabbit yarn," etc.

9th Verse
"I've no work to do," said the Doctor.
"I create and carve," etc.

10th Verse
"Who will follow me? " said the Headman.
"I've no work to do," etc.

VAGRANT SONG

Tune ‑‑‑‑ 'Clementine."

In a dingle by the wayside

There you find the vagrant train,
Or pitching tents upon the hillside,
Camping out in shine or rain.

0 the road calls and the night falls,
Now we shan't be very long,
Till the fire's gleam and the moon's beam
Stir the heart to lilting song.

In the highways and the byways
Gleam our banners in the sun,
Leave the old ways, hail the new days,
Fight for life till peace is won.

Raise your totems, blaze your symbols,
Let your outcry stir the earth,
Let your vigour raise the people
To ways of freedom, songs of mirth.

YOUTH SONG

Translated from the German.
Tune‑ Traditional.

Youth and maiden side by side
To the tramp of feet we're singing,
To the world new hope we're bringing,
Hope of life with us abide.

Mine and workshop freedom take,
But we shall not ask for pity
Who have come from out the city,
We ourselves the chains will break.

Bloom of birch and bursting spray,
Mother Nature gives us freely,
Who have welcomed life so gleely;
Youth will walk in light to‑day.

Youth and maiden side by side,
To the tramp of feet we're singing,
To the world new hope we're bringing,
Hope of life with us abide.

(Sing last line of each verse three times.)

THE VOW WE HAVE MADE

England,
By the tracks the Flint Men made,
And the men that cut the chalk,
By barrows and the grassy trails,
Across the hills our young feet walk,
Our limbs are strong, our hearts are brave,
We pledge them thee, by ashen stave.

By Saxon plow and Celtic sword,
By the King who burnt the cake,
By the rebel Hereward,
England, mother, for your sake,
Make us strong, make us brave,
England, by the ashen stave.

Not for war and not for greed,
Not for pomp or glory,
But for the help our brothers need,
Do we sing this story,
Our vows are green, our hearts are brave,
We pledge them thee by ashen stave.

UNDER TOTEM BOLD

Tune‑ "Toy Drum Major."

Under totem bold and the disc of gold
Meet we folk in haunts of old ;
Brave and strong, with a rebel song
And a shout of greeting.
Supple limb and fertile brain,
Hail to the hills and the rolling plain,
Leave house and hall the woodfolk call
With a shout of greeting

The night is dim and the way is grim,
The people plead in a feeble hymn,
The road is long, the rich are strong,
And the storm's a‑beating.
Though weaklings whine the sun will shine,
The Folk are strong as the towering pine,
Arise as one, the game's begun,
And the storm's a‑beating.

THE WOODCRAFT LASS

Tune‑Traditional.

My love she is a woodcraft lass,
She doth all other maids surpass
So blithe, so frank, so gay, so fair,
The dew and the sun adorn her hair.

Chorus­
0, a woodcraft lass is she,
A maid of the morn, a daughter of dawn,
A woodcraft lass is she,
0 tra‑la‑la‑la‑la‑la‑lee.

With song and laughter by forest track,
She sturdily goes a‑humping a pack;
She cooks her pot on a twiggery fire,
To win her favour do I aspire.

My love he is a woodcraft man,
Who follows the trail of Piping Pan,
Supple and tall as a wayside pine,
With sunburnt skin and eyes so fine.

2nd Chorus­
0, a woodcraft lad is he,
A Greek god rare who walks on air,
0, a woodcraft lad is he,
0, tra‑la‑la‑la‑la‑la‑lee.

And we're two folk of the greenwood tree,
Our love is fine and fair and free,
And this shall be a roundelay
For all who follow the woodcraft way.

Both Choruses.

CHARABANC‑OH CHARABANC!

The road drives up : the road drives down
(Sing Charabanc, 0 Charabanc)
You passed me many miles from town,
(Sing Charabanc, 0 Charabanc)
I passed a motor and a ditch,
I could not tell you which was which.
(Sing Charabanc ! 0 Charabanc)
I tread the glade where roses are ;
(Sing Charabanc, 0 Charabanc)
You hitch your wagon to the tar;
(Sing Charabanc, 0 Charabanc)
I jumped the stile and took the path,
You jumped the ditch and took a bath.
(Sing Charabanc ! 0 Charabanc)
A tired driver and a load
(Sing Charabanc, 0 Charabanc)
Of men who drink along the road;
(Sing Charabanc,  0 Charabanc)
Doing thirty - which is mild-­
You passed a car and winged a child.
(Sing Charabanc ! 0 Charabanc).

A WAYFARERS LIFE

Tune‑ Traditional.

Oh, a wayfarer's life is a jolly, jolly life
As he tramps through the country free,
With his pack on his back and his trusty knife,
He depends upon none, not he, not be,
He depends upon none, not he.

From early morn when the dew is on the grass,
He may hike by the green wayside,
Many miles he'll go 'ere the sun sinks low,
And the beams of the day have died, have died,
And the beams of the day have died.

At a Fellowship camp he may dump his little pack,
If he wants to have a good pow‑wow,
Friends he'll not lack by his comfy little shack,
And they'll greet him with a mighty how tow‑row!
They'll greet him with a mighty how!

When evening falls and the night wind calls,
He may squat by the bright fireside,
And tales will be told till the night grows old,
And the flicker of the flames has died, has died,
And the flicker of the flames has died.

Civilised folk under capital's yoke,
Worshipping the great god grind,
Come away to the wild and live undefiled,
And perfect the body and the mind, the mind
And perfect the body and the mind.

(Repeat first verse softly as an envoi.)

THE WASSAIL SONG

Bring water from the crystal spring
And honey from the heather,
Bring bubbles from the laughing brook,
The tang of winter weather.
Bring morning dew and fallen stars,
The cowslip and the buttercup,
Bring gossamer and scent of pines,
And fill again the drinking cup.

Chorus­
It's drink then,
Drink of the wonder, the glory of life
And pledge then,
The triumph of youth, the death of all strife.
Cry Waes Hael !
Wassail ye wanderers, merry men true,
And drain of life's beaker and brim it anew.
Bring stardust from the Milky Way,
And larksong in the morning,
Bring moonbeams from the beechen wood
And bee‑song in the dawning ;
Steal fairy bells from lonely dells,
A maid's smile while she's sleeping,
The wind that blows the whitethorn bloom
And every new bud peeping.
Bring thyme from every windy down
And bracken and sweet clover,
Bring spray from every sandy shore,
The crying of the plover ;
Bring love and art and growing things,
The wild thoughts of a youngster,
Bring sun, and strength and striving sense
And drink to every songster.

Chorus‑
It's drink then, etc.

THE FIRE CHANT (OR CREED)

Song or chanted at the opening of Council Fire.

For these things shall I strive
keen eye,
seeing hand,
body that fails not,
An arm that is strong and willing to serve,
A mind that yearns to understand,
A spirit that searches for truth and that loves the silent places,
A heart that is courageous and that bears goodwill to all men.

THE CAMPFIRE CAROL

Tune‑Traditional.
Leap high, 0 golden flame, the day is dead,
Give warmth and cheer, 0 Flame, the sun has fled,
Stoutly your gleam maintain, youth's not abed,
Ring out the heart's refrain, goodwill to all.

Now droops the crimson flower 'neath silent skies,
Flickers the crimson flower, flickers and dies,
These merry singing hours, a swift‑flown prize
Pass whilst the soft dew showers, goodwill to all.

Envoi­
Peace to the strong, the thinking and the free,
Peace when the torch has set young England free,
Peace unto all, peace unto all.

SNATCHES AND ROUNDS

THE MIGHTY ANTHEM

Pour it forth the mighty anthem,
Pour it forth the mighty anthem,
0 ye pilgrims of the night,
For we are the wild woodcrafters
And the conquer‑onquer‑onquer‑querors are we!

Tune‑ Traditional.

ROUND

Tune‑‑"London's Burning."

ROUND

Tune‑ Traditional.
1st Voice.      I went to the animals' fair,
                       And who d'ye think was there
                       The gay baboon, by the light of the moon,
                       Was combing his golden hair.
                       The monkey fell out of his bunk,
                       He fell on the elephant's trunk,
                       The elephant sneezed, went down on his knees,
                       And what became of the ‑

2nd Voice. (Repeats all the time) Monkey‑monkey.

ROUND

Tune‑ Traditional.
Omnes.  

Down at the station early in the morning.
See the little puff‑puffs all in a row,
Man on the engine turns a little handle,
Ch‑ch‑ch and away we go !

1st Voice
Hold him down, hold him down,
Hold him down, the dusky warrior;
Hold him down, hold him down,
Hold him down the Swazi king.

2nd Voice
Ole Zimbo, Zimbo, Zimbo,
Ole Zimbo, Zimbo, Zim.
Ole Zimbo, Zimbo, Zimbo,
Ole Zimbo, Zimbo, Zirn.

SNATCH

Tune‑‑‑"Oh, the World's All Right”

Oh the world's all right, it's the bosses living in it
Make it seem all wrong, make it seem all wrong,
If there's strife, or any trouble in it
You can bet your life it's the bosses who begin it,
And we tramp our way and we're happy every minute,
As we sing our little song,
Oh, the world's all right, it's the bosses living in it
Make it seem all wrong.

SNATCH

Tune as for chorus of "Song of the Way."

Oh we are the real rebellious reds,
We sleep o' nights on heather beds,
And under the blue and the gold of day,
We sing as we follow the woodcraft way.

ROUND

Tune‑ Traditional

1st Voice.                                                                                                        
Over hill and valley, valley, valley,
Over hill and valley we folk go,
Over hill and valley, valley, valley,
Over hill and valley we shall go.

2nd Voice.   
Tramping, tramping, tramping in the sunlight,
Singing, singing, singing by the firelight,
Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping in the starlight,
Merry, merry, merry men are we.

SNATCH

Tune‑‑‑"One Man Went to Mow."

One man went to camp, went to camp forever,
One man and his dog went to camp together.
Two men went to camp, went to camp forever,
One man, two men and a dog went to camp together.

(and so, ad infinitum, until supply of men is exhausted.)

SNATCH

Tune‑‑"Rule Britannia."

When life first arose from out the primeval sea;
Arose as protoplasmic entity,
Arose, arose, arose from out the sea,
This was beginning, beginning lush and rife,
Of love, hate, peace and greed and endless strife…

Sanctae vitae, the thinker sets the pace,
Speed the liber‑liberation of the race.

(Other verses may be written at discretion‑and sung with caution.)

SNATCH

We're back to civilisation‑we're back to civilisation,
We're back to civilisation‑a church, a pub and a house.

SNATCH.

Oh me taters and me 'ot fried fish,
You can have a little if you wish;
You can have it on a plate or on a dish,
Or on a little bit of paper.

THE OUTCRY

(shouted with gusto and staccato emphasis.)

The Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk are we!
The Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk are we!
By oak and ash and thorn!
By bole of beechen tree !

The Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk, the Woodcraft Folk are free !