|
Welcome
to the Cottage of a Hedgewytch
Hello and Welcome, you are
invited to explore my Cottage at your convenience. If you are a
practitioner on the Traditional Path of the Craft as I am, please explore
what is offered herein at your leisure.
The meaning of the word
Hedgewytchery as I use it is more related to the older praxis of HedgeRiders,
MyrkRiders, or even WyrdRiders and is not used as a simple
descriptive term that encompasses the somewhat misguided and romantic
notions of solitary Wytches tooling about in their gardens by the light of
the moon (an idea that is often erroneously coupled with Kitchen
Witchery).
I have intentionally
replaced the i in the second half of the word with a y as to differentiate
it from the meaning that has been somewhat corrupted by Rae Beth and her
followers who practice what I believe she terms WildWood Crafting.
My use of the label HedgeWytch is a specific term that draws on the vast
knowledge of WortCunning in order to create salves and balms and
use of Trance States used for lifting the spirit out of the body - to
travel *oot and aboot* as it were. This is hardly the sort of work one
would want to be solitary while doing. To even consider it would be
foolhardy and potentially dangerous.
The Hedge itself is representative of the boundary, not only of the
village or community where the HedgeWytch resides, but the boundaries
between this world and the other world, between the mundane and the spirit
world.
*********
Corinna's Going A-Maying
GET up, get up for shame,
the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air
:
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east
Above an hour since : yet you not dress'd ;
Nay ! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis
sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in,
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no
care
For jewels for your gown or hair :
Fear not ; the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you :
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept ;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night :
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying :
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.
Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees :
see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch : each porch, each door ere
this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove ;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't ?
Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May :
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden
home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and
cream
Before that we have left to dream :
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth :
Many a green-gown has been given ;
Many a kiss, both odd and even :
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament ;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.
Come, let us go while we are in our prime ;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless
night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
© Robert Herrick
*********
Which is the Maid without a
Tress?
Which is the Tower without a Crest?
Which is the Water without any Sand?
And which is the King without any Land?
Where is no Dust in all the Road?
Where is no Leaf in all the Wood?
Which is the Fire that never Burnt?
And which is the Sword without any Point?
drag mouse to highlight
below for answers:
answers: a babe in the cradle, the tower of babel, tears in the eyes, the King in a pack of cards, the milky way, a fir tree, a painted fire, a broken
sword
[ Home ] [ HedgeWytchery ] [ Wise & Subtle Arts of Cartomancy ] [ The Wytch of Middling Memory ] [ Wytch of Exceptional Memory ] [ Which Wytch is Witch? ] [ Hie to Carterhaugh ] [ Green Grow the Rushes ] [ Loneliness and the Crooked Path ] [ Fetch Light Atop the Hedgerow ] [ T'ween Dusted Pages of Auld ] [ A Proverbial Wytch ] [ The Old Straight Track ] [ Oot and Aboot ] [ Hupp Horse and Handocks ] [ Skry Stone, Shew Stone, Tell me True ] [ Finding A Teacher ] [ Hertha's Seed and Ragged Weed ] [ Wytch Words - Old Craft Glossary ] [ Signs and Symbols ] [ Tom Tit Tot Named ] [ Hawthorn to Heal & Blackthorn to Harm ] [ Wytch of Kilkenny - Dame Alice Kyteler ] [ The Fabled Hare ] [ Arteful Avian Adventures ] [ By Standing Stone & Elder Tree ] [ Labyrinths & Mazes ] [ Guising - Behind the Mask ] [ Midsummer Lore ] [ Merry Misrule ] [ Diana and Her Darling Crew ] [ About the Cottage of the Hedgewytch ] [ Credits and Kudos ]
Sign
Guestbook
Unless otherwise
stated, all material contained herein is
Copyright © 2002 - 2009 by Dawn R. Jackson, (Site
Maintained by Aranea Web Design)
These writings have been archived and
Protected under the provisions of United States Code,
Title 17, Chapter 2, Section 201.
All Rights Reserved.
|
|
