Ronin, Award of the Wolf’s Cub, 2019

Who praises young Ronin?

I, said the knight,

Due to his might,

I praise young Ronin.

Who saw him shoot?

I, said the archer,

Saw arrow’s departure,

I saw him shoot.

Who saw him fight?

I, said the soldier,

I saw no one bolder,

I saw him fight.

Who saw him work?

I, said the Pelican,

He made me believe again,

I saw him work.

Who saw him try?

I, said the Laurel,

This son so auroral,

I saw him try.

Who saw him worthy?

We, said the Queen,

With King convene,

We saw him worthy.

Thus was it recorded in the musical tomes of the lupine kingdom, that Kaylah, Queen by Right of Arms, and Trumbrand, King of Grace and Patience, did look upon the many acts of Ronin, and found him to be a most excellent exemplar of Their lands. Therefore did They bestow upon him an Award of the Wolf’s Cub, given at the Harvest of the Huntsmen, in the Barony of Ben Dunsfirth, on the fifth day of October in the fifty-fourth year of the Society.

Wording by Maister Colyne Stewart, based on the children’s rhyme “Cock Robin”, originally published in ‘Tommy Thumb's Pretty Song Book’, c. 1744 (though its origins likely date back to the 15th century). This version only contained four verses, with an extended version appearing around 1770.  

Gwerith of Brynniau Tywynnog , Award of the Wolf’s Cub, 2013

Synge we to thys mery cumpane

Gwerith Ealdormerus, letare.

Young maide, blessyd thou be;

Strong of arm in archery,

Lade of stars, thus lyve we:

Gwerith Ealdormerus, letare.

Thow art minion of Sibylla, fre;

Now art thou cooke in mageste,

Hayl doughter, hail suster ful of gle!

            Gwerith Ealdormerus, letare.

Lo, this curteys Crown of degree

Nygle, Adrielle, decree

A Wulfen Cub maketh We,

            Gwerith Ealdormerus, letare.

At Wassail, celebrate We,

In Bryniau Tywnnog We see,

Year forty-eight of society,

            Gwerith Ealdormerus, letare.

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, based on Sing We To This Merry Company, date unknown. http://www.luminarium.org/medlit/medlyric/singwe.php

:: Synge we to thys mery cumpane:         

Regina celi, letare.::

Holy maide, blessyd thou be;

Godys sone is born of the,

The fader of heven, thus lyve we:       

Regina celi, letare.

Thow art emperesse of heaven, fre;

Now art thou moder in mageste,

Y-knytte in the blessed trinite;       

Regina celi, letare.

Hayl wyf, hayl maide, bright of ble!

Hayl doughter, hail suster ful of pite!

Hayl cosyn to the persones thre!       

Regina celi, letare.

Lo, this curteys Kynge of degre

Wole be thy sone with solempnite:

Mylde Mary, this ys thy fee.       

Regina celi, letare.

Ther fore knele we on oure kne;

Thy blysful berthe now worshype we

With this songe of melode:       

Regina celi, letare.

Zoe of House Marchmount, Award of the Wolf’s Cub, 2013

We sing of a maiden

Known for her wit,

Helping when needed

Who never quits.

Come now before Us

Zoe of Marchmount

Whose gifts to Us

Are too many to count.

Come now before Us

Kneel by the throne,

See the acclaim

That We would have shown.

Come now before Us

Take from Our hand

Award of the Wolf’s Cub

In Ardchreag land

At Fall A&S

On sixteenth November.

From Nigel and Adrielle.

May you always remember.

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, based on “I syng of a mayden”, anonymous, 15^th century.

I sing of a maiden
That is matchless,
King of all kings
For her son she chose.

He came as still
Where his mother was
As dew in April
That falls on the grass.

He came as still
To his mother's bower
As dew in April
That falls on the flower.

He came as still
Where his mother lay
As dew in April
That falls on the spray.

Mother and maiden
There was never, ever one but she;
Well may such a lady
God's mother be.

Liam of House Marchmount, Award of the Wolf’s Cub, 2013

We saw a young lad, playing and smiling,

A well behaved imp, a sweet little lordling.

Liam, Our Liking, Our dear one, Our sweeting,

Liam, Our dear heart, Our own dear darling.

That little lordling is worthy of renown

His angelic face never knowing a frown.

Liam, Our Liking, Our dear one, Our sweeting,

Liam, Our dear heart, Our own dear darling.

A Wolf’s Cub We give him to show him Our love

True son of Ealdormere who shines from above.

Liam, Our Liking, Our dear one, Our sweeting,

Liam, Our dear heart, Our own dear darling.

This We have done on November sixteen,

Adrielle and Nigel while royally seating

In Our Canton of Ardchreag, high on the red cliffs,

At an event We so love, being Kingdom A&S.

By THLaird Colyne Stewart, based on “Lullay, mine liking” a 15^th century lullaby.

Refrain
Lullay, mine Liking, my dear Son, mine Sweeting,
Lullay, my dear heart, mine own dear darling.

I saw a fair maiden, sitting and sing,
She lulled a little child a sweet lording:
Refrain

That very lord is He that made all things
Of all lords He is Lord (and) King of all king.
Refrain

There was mickle (much) melody at that Child's birth,
All that were in heaven's bliss, they made mickle mirth.
Refrain

Angels bright they sang that night and saiden to that Child,
"Blessed be Thou, and so be she that is both meek and mild."
Refrain

Pray we now to that Child, and to His mother dear,
Grant them His blessing that now maken cheer.
Refrain