Dunsany's Hope
Music/Lyrics: Louisa John-Krol
based on a novel by neglected English novelist Lord Dunsany,
entitled 'The King of Elfland's Daughter'.

I
I've been hovering near the border
drawn by Memory and Sound
Ever near the Dreaming, calling Elfland:
Alam Al-Mithal, Alam Al-Mithal, the Wind and Tallow

II
Like a child with a treasure
but no age nor wisdom to protect it -
Rare as coral it was stolen,
painted like a clown, abused and broken

Chorus
Now I hear and I obey! (the fear is at bay, the fear is at bay)
For I catch the glimpses fey! (be not afraid, they say be not afraid)
I'll prepare to make my way! (the past is away, the past is away)
Oh those hills have called me long and I must answer....

III
Never far from the border,
though the Realms are ebbing, still they hold me -
Alam Al-Mithal, Alam Al-Mithal, the Dream is over.



Hyperion
Music: Louisa John-Krol / Mark Krol
the title and central character of a lyrical novel by Holderlin.

Hear, Hear, Hear, Here!
when we dream, we are gods
when we think, we are beggars
when we think, we are beggars
when we dream, we are gods!

Adamis! Diotima! Alabanda!



Argo
Music / Lyrics: Louisa John-Krol
quest for the Golden Fleece and the love of Medea.

I
Oh, I know him well, I tell myself....
I'll show what destinies are made of
And grow the Oak of Dodona in this hero, Yea so the Argonauts will all sing
"Come to your Medea...."

We've loved we've killed we've stolen,
We've laughed, we've grieved, we've fallen,
We've dreamed that all the gods were ours - for just one moment -
You'll drive your ego Argo, You'll crucify your Creusa,
You'll find a flame as Ino! Oh....

Chorus
Argo, Argonauts
Our Dream's off the shore
I know what we're for
Augur new ways of thought
Argo, Argonauts
Centaur - get off the floor
Argo, fifty oars
Our cold kisses are in store

II
Oh, you'll know them well, I tell myself....
What drew you here was only a phantom! -
Like Nephele! - Or the hunger for the Voyage on the
Seven, Seven, Seven, Seven, Seven, Seven, Seven Seas.
So! Come to your Medea....

We've loved we've killed we've stolen,
We've laughed, we've grieved, we've fallen,
We've dreamed that all the gods were ours - for just one moment -
You'll drive your ego Argo,
You'll crucify your Creusa,
You'll find a flame as Ino! Oh....

Chorus
Argo, Argonauts
Our Dream's off the shore
I know what we're for
Augur new ways of thought
Argo, Argonauts
Centaur - get off the floor
Argo, fifty oars
Our cold kisses are in store

Argo - Come to your Medea! Come to your Medea!
I know, what we're for, Augur new ways of thought,
New ways of thought,
Argo, Argonauts, come to your Medea, oh!
Argo, fifty oars, our cold kisses are in store,
Argo, fifty oars....
Argo fifty oars....to your Medea



I'm Not Walking
Music / Lyric: Louisa John-Krol, Mark Krol
from Walter de la Mare's poem, 'Goodbye'.

I
Thought, high in her Ivory Tower
Falls in the spinning and weaving of Time
And the last of last words spoken is ŒGoodbye' -
Never for you and I! Say when we die:

Chorus
"I can hear your tears and I know that I'm not talking...."
"I can feel your fears and I know that I'm not walking...."
I won't be leaving you
In embers of failure,
In the pool of our Winter
Glisten eyes of our Daemon

II
Thought, high in her Ivory Tower
Falls in the spinning and weaving of Time
And the last of last words spoken is ŒGoodbye' -
Never for you and I! Say when we die:
"I can hear your tears and I know that I'm not talking...."
"I can feel your fears and I know that I'm not walking (away from you)"
We need no leaders
We need no followers
We seek the answers
From the Great Ancestors.
(I can hear you, I can hear you, I can....)

Chorus
"I can hear your tears and I know that I'm not talking"
"I can feel your fears and I know that I'm not walking"
You know I won't be leaving you
In embers of failure,
In the pool of our Winter
Glisten eyes of our Daemon.
We need no leaders,
We need no followers
We seek the answers
From the Great Ancestors.

I'm not walking from you! I'm walking to the Ancestors -
You know that I'm not, know that I'm not,
Not walking away from you!
I'm walking to the Ancestors,
Walking...to the Ancestors

Little Wanderer
Music: Louisa John-Krol
based on Blake's poems 'A Dream' and 'London'

Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an Emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, Œwildered and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn -
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say:

O, my children! do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see:
Now return and weep for me.

Pitying, I drop'd a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, what wailing wight
Calls the Watchman of the night?

I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round.
Follow now the beetle's hum,
Little Wanderer, hi thee home!
In every cry, of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear
In every voice, In every ban
The mind-forg'd Manacles I hear...

Oh my children do they cry ....
for the Little Wanderer



Inanna
lyrics adapted from a Sumerian liturgy circa 3000 BC



Out of The Equipage
Music / Lyric: Louisa John-Krol, Mark Krol

No chariot is your pyre
No rest is forever -
Step out of the Equipage

Eos of the Golden Fire!
Tithonos in your eyes
Your Dawn a broken heart
Step out of the Equipage



Inside the Bubble
Music / Lyric: Mark Krol

And I will disappear
And see your smile,
And I will tell the fear
To say Goodnight ­

Whenever you're in trouble
I will always carry you
There, inside the Bubble
I will always be with you



House of Legend
(The Golden Cottage)
Music / Lyric: Louisa John-Krol

I
No more man, than a talkative nymph -
Was it planned, you would break the silence?
In your hands is no trace of my kiss....
Then the love that we bore
Was a mere wave in the storm morning....

Chorus
But in my Golden Cottage -
My Cottage of Gold
I can be my own Sea-Enchantress!
By the rocks -
By the stony shore:
House of Legend - You stand tall.

II
In the Square, in the Village Market -
Trade your wares for the latest gossip
Now the Mayor seems to think he likes it -
Still the love that we bore
Was a mere wave in the Storm MorningŠ



Duncan the Fiddler
Music / Lyrics: Louisa John-Krol, based on a folktale of the Isle of Man
Duncan the Fiddler, play for your life!
Up from the heather and into the night,
You'll come nae mare to berry nor stamp,
You'll play the ware and we'll be the dance -

Duncan the Fiddler, play for your life!
Up from the rivers and over the skies,
Don't you be gone, our shadows are young -
Don't you be leaving what you beganŠ.

On the stone we made our own duet,
A dangerous game was on, a pact -
Not just a song - and since you've come,
We might as well continueŠ.
I recommend you:

Duncan the Fiddler, play for your life!
Up from the heather and into the night
You'll come nae mare to berry nor stamp,
You'll play the ware and we'll be the dance!

Way for the Fiddler, way for the bow!
Pray for the Fiddler - but don't let him go!
Who would deny our generous rogue?
In with the drink and on with the show!

Pomegranite blood we share with you,
Our nectar juice is of the rarest hue,
So take the handles of the flagons,
Take the fruit I beg youŠ.I dare you!

Duncan the Fiddler, hey your life
is Flashing before you like a steely little knife!
Did you say you've no children nor wife?
Well we have some you'd very well like:

Anwin, Ellen, Morgan, Nell and Edith,
Eve, Rhiannon, Alison ­ and maybe Morveth!
Emily, now she's been anxious latelyŠ.

Duncan the FiddlerŠ
Duncan the FiddlerŠ
Something wrong? - you're dreadfully dim -
Dear, what a spot you've got yourself in!

Duncan the Fiddler, hey ho here!
Here is a lemon and there goes your beardŠ
Open your mouth and let us begin
Cursing the mess your fiddle is in ­

Pieces all around you, where to stop?
The agony, the energy is fading,
Now you know the hunger of the Faerie...



Oak, Ash and Thorn
Music by Louisa John-Krol
Lyrics by Rudyard Kipling: "A Tree Song", is in his novel "Puck of Pook's Hill"

Of all the trees that grow so fair, Old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the Sun, than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn
Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good Sirs (All of a Midsummer morn!)
Surely we sing no little thing, in Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day, or ever Aeneas began;
Ash of the Loam was a lady at home, when Brut was an outlaw man;
Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town (From which was London born);
Witness hereby the ancientry of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow;
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and beech for cups also.
But when ye have killed, an your bowl is spilled, an your shoes are clean outworn,
Back ye must speed for all that ye need, to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth till every gust be laid,
To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade:
But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the horn,
He will take no wrong when he lieth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight, or he would call it a sin;
But - we have been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring Summer in!
And we bring you news by word of mouth - good news for cattle and corn ­
Now is the Sun come up from the South, with Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good Sirs (All of a Midsummer morn)!
England shall bide till Judgment Tide, by Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!
(Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn! Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn!)


The Healer's Names
a tribute to the Italian Renaissance Neo-Platonist and Sufi, Ficino.
Like the centaur of the Argonauts, Ficino was a respected physician and tutor.
He was a key figure in the Renaissance, influencing such artists as Botticelli.
This song bears only one word - Healer.