This song has been haunting me today
Dec. 12th, 2012 06:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This one came up on my Midwinter playlist today. It occurs to me that this song, which was distributed in an English broadsheet in the 19th century, would be a great anthem for the Occupy movement. The version I'm listening to is on this album, and it's just a stunning arrangement. You can hear a snippet/sample at that link to give you an idea, or a slightly longer sample on iTunes. Let me know if you listen and like.
Time to Remember the Poor
Cold winter is come, with its cold chilling breath
And the leaves are all gone from the trees.
All nature seems touched by the finger of death
And the streams are beginning to freeze.
When the young wanton lads o'er the river slide,
When flowers attend us no more,
In plenty you are sitting by a warm fireside:
That's the time to remember the poor.
When the cold feathery snow from the North does descend
It blankets the prospects around.
The keen cutting wind from the North will attend
And cover it over the ground.
When the bright twinkling stars they proclaim the cold night
And the rivers are froze on the shore,
When the hills and the dales are all mantled with white
That's the time to remember the poor.
When the poor harmless hare escapes from the wood
His footprints indented in the snow,
When the lips and the fingers are tinted with blood
And the sportsman a-hunting do go.
When the poor Robin Redbreast approaches your cot
When the icicles hang from the door,
When the smoke it does billow, reviving and hot:
That's the time to remember the poor.
Soon the time will here when our Saviour on Earth
The ends of the Earth will rejoice.
And angels and men Hallelujah shall sing
Then the rich shall lie down with the poor.
Then the rich must remember the poor.
Time to Remember the Poor
Cold winter is come, with its cold chilling breath
And the leaves are all gone from the trees.
All nature seems touched by the finger of death
And the streams are beginning to freeze.
When the young wanton lads o'er the river slide,
When flowers attend us no more,
In plenty you are sitting by a warm fireside:
That's the time to remember the poor.
When the cold feathery snow from the North does descend
It blankets the prospects around.
The keen cutting wind from the North will attend
And cover it over the ground.
When the bright twinkling stars they proclaim the cold night
And the rivers are froze on the shore,
When the hills and the dales are all mantled with white
That's the time to remember the poor.
When the poor harmless hare escapes from the wood
His footprints indented in the snow,
When the lips and the fingers are tinted with blood
And the sportsman a-hunting do go.
When the poor Robin Redbreast approaches your cot
When the icicles hang from the door,
When the smoke it does billow, reviving and hot:
That's the time to remember the poor.
Soon the time will here when our Saviour on Earth
The ends of the Earth will rejoice.
And angels and men Hallelujah shall sing
Then the rich shall lie down with the poor.
Then the rich must remember the poor.