Ygampo

M o r r i s   C o x

Y U L
E   G A M M O N

Come ye all !

                       
gool

                       
gool,

                                               
spell
under yews,

freeze-kin !
Choose ye,

clip ye under the
mistletoe.

All-heal hangs
with his fiddlers three.

Snitely yelk and
icely singing

eat your berry and
hale your love.

                       
Coss
ye all!

O folk of my
belly, I have brought the log :

O sin-ball, my
eld, should I die in my skin,

beloved !


 

                       
Welcome
in !

Here is Too-good
with a bare nothing,

Plump-dumpling,
who wedded Skin-and-bone :

Man-of-straw, old
Flea-in-the-ear,

Bee-in-a-bonnet,
and all the rest.

Here is a lady who
whored off her nose,

with her
gold-loving lord who lost both his hands :

and fey wights
also: hairy slugs,

fish in high
feather and bald cats.

                       
We
are all one !

Some have murder
and dust in their eyes,

some lie on the
shelf without a leg,

some fight in fear
of their own shadows,

some smell of
sucklings, some of death :

some, well tossed,
are laid at my door,

some bad, some
odd, some good.

 

                       
Come
right in !

There is room for
all, though you sit on a bodkin :

together, by the
ears, we have buried the axe.

 

 

                       
Let
us begin.

Jig ye awhile to
the whittle and dub,

couth and cuddly.

Do you hear the
clommed houndwhelps yowling my death?

My block is ready,
the fiery tree.

                       
Jig
ye all !

Ragtail and
Tagglebob, take your turn :

ye twirps and
pimps, smellsmocks and trollops,

hugged up together
and running in the skin,

                       
jig
ye all :

Ye godrotten
wantons and gidden whores,

guffawing
fumblers, scuts and scrubs,

behold me standing

lean on a rake by
my body as two peas,

watching the
old-year moon begin to die !

                       
Jig
ye all !

Your daughters lie
screaming by the shells of the sea,

for the foe has
found their narrow way :

your wives lie
sobbing by the snails of the shore,

for the foe has
sat down by their fires :

someone’s
middenhood hangs by a pin,

every Kit has lost
her key,

no maiden is left
to bear the bell :

not one left
without a broken elbow,

not one whole
above the knee !

                       
Weep
if you can,

I speak not in
anger . . .

Wimble me the walk
called Creeping Snail,

weaving aloft your
beaded wands . . .

                       
There
is nothing hidden :

you speak with
your limbs as plain as day.

The scutting hare
foretold your weird,

you reared your
stonehenge under heaven :

now you front your
madmen in narrow lanes

with a sifty
answer to trim a wit

and teach your
eldermother to grope ducks !

                       
O
such a love !

The Log is mine
and I am his,

I go to dwell in
his breast forever.

                       
O
such a dearth !

Fair Hollen sits
with her maids and children,

the everlasting
fire is in her fingers . . .

                       
Jig
no more !

The meats are set
for a mighty meal.

The holy star-wit
has made his cast :

foretold is the
godspeech in words ye know.

                       
Seat
ye all !

Bid the sweetling,
tiny folk come in,

all swarty tawny,
to aid our luck.

The kettle-witch
has spelled our brew,

the god-spill of
blood has blissed our board.

                       
Pray
ye all !

I am the wild man
of the Words,

I bring gleed
tidings to all mankind :

into the
froring-pan out of the fire,

I come to eat up
your sins !

O ye weary ones,
heavy lidden with life,

you cunning
whoresons,

 

                       
come
unto me!

Blissed tonight
are the dirty mick sluts

and blessed are
the galligut finasters and sniters.

O Bangbowl,
Lickdish, Cramgut and Lickchops,

here are titbits
whiffling hot !

                       
Eat
and be merry !

Fall to your
calfing, chawing and munching :

heap high the
husks, cods and swids !

wind me a roaring
hullabaloo

with beck over
buttock from kinnipan to pannikin,

bolching anon to
break the wand.

                       
Drink
ye all !

Long as a fuddle
and black as the sun

kid after kenned
is dying already :

wick’d from the
bud and mewed in a crack,

sweating and
spewing and treading on mice.

 

                       
Wesheill
!

 

I am born of the
witter of the mother

and begotten of
the fire of the father.

My star is risen
with the yeast

where I witness
the lofting of a new world.

                       
Love
one another !

I am overshadowed
by the holy hill,

your silver and
gold are put down to bewray me :

your sweet grasses
are spread to hallow my burial,

your bitter waters
are poured to sop my woe.

The midst is
everywhere ! . . .

Behold, how I fell
into the deeps without fear

and my sleep was
sweet !

 

I was suckled with
the son of dawning

when the sins of
God first walked with men :

there heaven was
born through understanding

and earth was
begotten through overflowing.

 

                       
Live
ye and lorn !

Hold your holly to
the navel,

sow your seething
in love’s morning.

The cock crows in
the watchman’s skull

where you tread,
thanking your lucky stairs . . .

I have not been
blind.

Once upon a time
(while the iron is hot)

you worshipped
holy nipples on the hill of skulls

and cried for
light with the stars agiggle,

your fists on fire
with dripping candles :

I stood there
alone, unseen.

Your ears were in
a crack where the wind sits,

your eyes were
lost on a winding stair,

with you, O Man,
prodding your snake

to raise some lust
in a world grown cold :

and you, bell
lady, all behind,

thunderblack, and
pale with death !

I stood there
weeping, watching :

your bird-in-hand
lay on the shelf,

its wings clipped
and the door open :

you sat on thorns
to bask in the sun

and ate your heels
in the womb of time :

you feathered your
nests on a waning star

and drew your
breath from the jawes of death,

and thought you
could, with unhallowed wealth,

stand in my shoes
and scratch your backs !

You tried, you
dared : and I saw it all,

thinking, O, how
often have I sent

naked truth on a
fool’s errand !

How often have I
lived anew

and died again
that you might live ! . . .

                       
Let
us play.

Here is a horse
while I climb on the table,

here are wooden
legs that run in the blood :

here is the knell
of death’s own bell

when oft we start
into darkest night.

                       
Come
one, come all.

Here on a bough
hang Dismas and Gesmas,

wrapped in the
ruth of a soft pussy night-down

and between them
both shines the Holy Boy,

matching with his
blood our manifold needs.

                       
In
and out

                       
and
all about

the Tree is set to
yield our gifts,



with Maid-Mara on
loft, our own sweet Mother.

Now let us take
the housel in seemly wise,

hiding the lie and
wedding the weak.

For me, the ship
of an open door :

for us all, the
bones of a great tomorrow,

bleeding off into
nothing

Behold, now, my
play of hands,

my breath, my
spittle, my eyes’ gleam.

We are not born of
ourselves.

Gather in a great
ring about me

and witness the
wonder of life everlasting.

                                               
Fear
no more !

                       
I
wit the wed,

                       
I
go into the log !

May this
yule-block hallow your lives

that your dugs may
give clean suck

and your deeds may
linger on the earth.

                                               
Bare
ye and forbear !

                       
I
roll out my old skin,

                       
so
to ring in the new,

                       
Take
care of me !

                       
See
that I am well swaddled.

                                               
Fare
ye well !

                       
The
maze is upon me,

                       
my
time is come :

the geld, the
heart’s yield, the golden riches,

the yell of the
wind through me, below booming,

shrieking in my
skull, to a moan wreathing :

in the egg, the
chirp of the chick :

in the womb the
momme of the child :

                       
before
the world was, I knew it :

                       
before
the Word was, I knew it.

                                               
gool

                                               
gool

 

                                                           
I
will come again.