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THE FABLED HARE (Maddy Prior - based on a "spell" by Isobel Gowdie 1662) Maddy Prior I sall go until a hare Wi sorrow and sick mickle care I sall goe in the devil's name An while I come home again. I am ruled by the moon, I move under her mantle. I am the symbol of her moods, of rebirth cycle. I am companion to the gods, I can conceive while I'm pregnant. I call the dawn and spring in, I am the advent. I bring life from water in a cup that must be broken. I whisper to the bursting egg, I'm Aestre's token. Scent of dog, scent of man. Closer, closer, smell them coming. Hot breath, hot death. Closer, closer, hard the running. Tongues pant, hearts thump. Closer, closer, through the fields. Teeth snap, Bones crack. Closer, closer, at my heels. Nearer yet and nearer. I can feel the poacher's knife. He is running for his dinner. I am running for my life. Wynter wakeneth al my care nou this leues waxeth bare Ofte y sike ant mourne sare When hit cometh in my thoht Of this worldes joie hou hit geth al to noht. Man sprays no weeds. The scythe cuts, the corn bleeds. Leverets trapped in a harvest blade. Tis the time of man the hare said. Here's the tractor, here's the plough. And where do we go now? We'll lie in forms as still as the dead. In the open fields the hare said. No cover but the camouflage >From the winter's wild and bitter rage. All our defense is in our legs. We run like the wind the hare said. I've been cursed, I've been despised As a witch with darkest powers I sall goe until a hare I've been hunted, trapped and punished In these my darkest hours Wi sorrow and such mickle care. I've been thrown into the fire But I do not fear it I sall goe until a hare. It purifies and resurrects And I can bear it Wi sorrow and such mickle care. I have outrun dogs and foxes And I've dodged the tractor wheels I sall goe until a hare I've survived you persecution And your ever-changing fields Wi sorrow and such mickle care. I will run and run forever Where the wild fields are mine I sall go until a hare I'm a symbol of endurance Running through the mists of time Wi sorrow and such mickle care. (Contributed by =Ae= - January 2013)

    


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