Out & About …

… on the North York Moors, or wherever I happen to be.

Roseberry in the Golden Hour

Roseberry in the Golden Hour

Headed up to Capt. Cook’s Monument for a run this morning but the day turned more brumous the higher I climbed. Then like a lot of days this November the skies cleared after lunch.

The golden hour is that period of the day shortly before sunset when the sun is low in the sky and the light is redder and softer. This was taken about 12 minutes to sunset. Within a minute the sun had disappeared behind a bank of cloud over the Pennines.

And with the news of a scaled-down Christmas, I was reminded of this old protest song from the time of Oliver Cromwell when Christmas celebrations were outlawed. It was recorded by Maddy Prior and The Carnival Band in the 1990s.

The World Turned Upside Down

Listen to me and you shall hear, news hath not been this thousand year:
Since Herod, Caesar, and many more, you never heard the like before.
Holy-dayes are despis’d, new fashions are devis’d.
Old Christmas is kickt out of Town.
Yet let’s be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn’d upside down.

Command is given, we must obey, and quite forget old Christmas day:
Kill a thousand men, or a Town regain, we will give thanks and praise amain.
The wine pot shall clinke, we will feast and drinke.
And then strange motions will abound.
Yet let’s be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn’d upside down.

Our Lords and Knights, and Gentry too, doe mean old fashions to forgoe:
They set a porter at the gate, that none must enter in thereat.
They count it a sin, when poor people come in.
Hospitality it selfe is drown’d.
Yet let’s be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn’d upside down.

The serving men doe sit and whine, and thinke it long ere dinner time:
The Butler’s still out of the way, or else my Lady keeps the key,
The poor old cook, in the larder doth look,
Where is no goodnesse to be found,
Yet let’s be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn’d upside down.

To conclude, I’le tell you news that’s right, Christmas was kil’d at Naseby fight:
Charity was slain at that same time, Jack Tell troth too, a friend of mine,
Likewise then did die, rost beef and shred pie,
Pig, Goose and Capon no quarter found.
Yet let’s be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn’d upside down.


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