The Lady’s Bransle / Lord’s Bransle

(Hope Ahern)

For She will bring the buds in spring
And laugh among the flowers
In summer’s heat Her kisses are sweet
She sleeps in leafy bowers
She cuts the cane and gathers the grain
When fruits of fall surround Her
Her bones grow old in wintry cold
She wraps Her cloak around Her

Lord’s bransle (by Leslie Noble)

And He will call the leaves in the fall,
to fly their colors brightly;
When heat is lost, he paints with frost,
His silver touches lightly.

He greets the day in the dance of May,
with ribbons around about him;
We eat the corn and drink from his horn,
We would not be without him.


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