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 The
subject this week is lullabies. A lullaby is a song to calm a child,
and send it to sleep: the word dates from the middle of the 16th
century, but its root, to lull, is much older, and comes from Middle
English. Often, the term Cradle Song is used, in part as a direct
translation of the German Wiegenlied. There isn't a fixed
form for a lullaby, but in general they are rhymed.
I suppose I'm cheating a bit, because they are generally sung, and
thus could be thought of as lyric; and I have generally steered
clear of lyrics in these pieces. But actually, the melodies are
very simple; and with the exception of songs like Johannes Brahms's
Wiegenlied the words and the rhythm of the words is more
important than the melody itself.
Anyway, they are what I am going to talk about this week - so sue
me!
As you might expect, this kind of poetry has been around for a long
time. I have always found the Celtic folk songs of special interest,
particularly the story of Angus Og. He was the son of Dagda, the
Irish-Celtic god of the earth and treaties, and ruler over life
and death. Dagda, or The Dagda, ("the good god") is one of the most
prominent gods; a son of the goddess Danu and father of the goddess
Brigid and the god Aengus mac Oc, or Angus Og. There is a story
called The Dream of Angus Og, and I am not going to tell
the whole thing here, but in brief :
Angus Og was asleep in his bed one night, and he saw what he thought
was a young girl standing near him at the top of the bed, and she
the most beautiful he had ever seen in Ireland. He put out his hand
to take her hand, but she vanished on the moment, and in the morning
when he awoke there was no trace or tidings of her.
He got no rest that day thinking of her, and that she had gone away
before he could speak to her. And the next night he saw her again,
and this time she brought a little harp in her hand, the sweetest
he ever heard, and she played a song to him, so that he fell asleep
and slept till morning. And the same thing happened every night
for a year. She would come to his bedside and be playing on the
harp to him, but she would be gone before he could speak with her.
And at the end of the year she came no more, and Angus began to
pine away with love of her and with fretting after her; and he would
take no food, but lay upon the bed, and no one knew what it was
ailed him. And all the physicians of Ireland came together, but.
they could not put a name on his sickness or find any cure for him.
 After
consulting a great seer, the girl was identified as Caer Ormaith,
daughter of Ethal Anbual. Dagda requested that she marry his son,
but her father refused. "That is what I cannot do," he said, "for
there is a power over her that is greater than mine. It is an enchantment
that is on her; she is to be in the shape of a bird for one year,
and in her own shape the next year." He was asked what bird she
was to be, and he answered "She will be in the shape of a swan next
month at Loch Beul Draguin, and three fifties of beautiful birds
will be along with her, and if you will go there, you will see her."
The Dagda went home and told Angus all that had happened, and he
said: "Go next summer to Loch Beul Draguin, and call her to you
there."
So when the time came, Angus Og went to the loch, and he saw the
three times fifty white birds there, with their silver chains about
their necks. And Angus stood in a man's shape at the edge of the
loch, and he called to the girl: "Come and speak with me, O Caer!"
"Who is calling me?" said Caer. "Angus calls you," he said "and
if you come, I swear by my word, I will not hinder you from going
into the loch again." "I will come," she said. So she came to him,
and he laid his two hands on her, and then, to hold to his word,
he took the shape of a swan on himself, and they went into the loch
together, and they went around it three times.
And then they spread their wings and rose up from the loch, and
went in that shape till they were at Brugh na Boinne. And as they
were going, the music they made was so sweet that all the people
that heard it fell asleep for three days and three nights.
Ever since then, mothers will sing to their children of Dream
Angus to send them to sleep, and this will be our first
poem of the week; the words are credited to George Churchill: I
haven't been able to trace him.
However, old English lullabies were not necessarily as romantic
as this. Our second poem this week is an example of an early anonymous
contribution, Baby, baby, naughty baby. There are a number
of small variations: in some cases Bonaparte is replaced with other
fear figures; Rouen steeple appears rather than Monmouth. It's hard
to imagine it actually putting a young child to sleep, but I guess
that's how you bring kids up to be Empire builders!
 William
Blake (1757 - 1827) was an English poet, painter, engraver, and
visionary mystic. Merriam Webster's Encyclopedia
of Literature remarks that his "hand-illustrated series
of lyrical and epic poems form one of the most strikingly original
and independent bodies of work in the Western cultural tradition."
One of his books is entitled Songs
of Innocence and of Experience: Shewing the Two Contrary States
of the Human Soul, and this has a Cradle Song in
each of the two parts. Here is the one from Songs of Innocence:
Sweet dreams form a shade
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams
Sweet sleep with soft down,
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.
Sweet smiles in the night,
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles Mothers smiles
All the livelong night beguiles.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.
Sleep sleep happy child.
All creation slept and smil'd.
Sleep sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee thy mother weep
Sweet babe in thy face,
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe once like thee,
Thy maker lay and wept for me
Wept for me for thee for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee.
Smiles on thee on me on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are his own smiles,
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.
The
one from Songs of Experience is the last of our Poems of the
Week.
One of the best-known early English lullabies, written in 1603,
is Golden Slumbers Kiss Your Eyes, and it is by perhaps one
of the least regarded writers of his time, Thomas Dekker. He was
a playwright of no great stature, and spent some time in debtor's
prison. Very little is known of his life, including when he was
born and when he died; Merrriam Webster gives 1572 - 1632; another
source gives 1570 - 1641. This poem appeared in a play entitled
The Pleasant Comoedy of Patient Grissill, which was written
with Henry Chettle (1560 - 1607) and William Haughton. Here it is:
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise.
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby:
Rock them, a lulla, lullaby.
Care is heavy, therefore sleep you;
You are care, and care must keep you.
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby:
Rock them, a lulla, lullaby.
 There
are some variations on this: in the modern version 'darling' replaces
'wantons'; and the second stanza opens:
Care you know not, therefore sleep,
While I o'er you watch do keep.
And
lines three and four in each stanza are repeated after the last
line.
Finally, a little bit of sugar from Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson
(1809 - 1892):
What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till thy little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.
Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till thy little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby too shall fly away.
Hope
you enjoy these contrasts! And remember:
Mary Ann has gone to rest,
Safe at last on Abraham's breast
Which may be nuts for Mary Ann,
But is certainly rough on Abraham.
Dream
Angus
Baby,
Baby, Naughty Baby
Cradle
Song
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