How the blog works

The poems on this blog are mostly written on the basis of my historical reading and are intended to be both educational and entertaining.
Recently I have also begun posting some of my work with Anglo-Saxon charms. This work is somewhat speculative and is conducted as an amateur researcher and keen Pagan historian.

Please feel free to use anything on this site as a resource if you think that it may be relevant to your needs.

Saturday, 28 March 2015

The End?

Historical introduction

Æthelberht who worshiped Wotan was married to Berta who was a Christian. The king permitted her to restore an old Roman church for her use.
At the request of king Æthelberht a papal party of about 40 men led by Augustine arrived in Kent in 597. The king had a meeting with them in the open so that the monks could not work magic on him. He permitted the monks to preach in Kent and some time later he was converted, ten thousand of his subjects followed.
When Æthelberht died in 616 Kent returned to being Heathen for a few decades.

Meanwhile his nephew, Saeberht, the king of Essex was also converted.

Rædwald, king of East Anglia, was only partly converted (apparently while at Æthelberhts court) and retained a pagan shrine next to the new Christian altar.

Meanwhile in 627 King Edwin of Northumbria and all his nobles were baptised. He may have been influenced by his wife, Ethelburgh, who was a Christian. Most of his subjects followed.

Missionaries also preached in the kingdom of Mercia. In 653 King Paeda of Mercia was converted and baptised and gradually the realm was converted.

The last part of England to be converted to Christianity was Sussex. It was converted after 680 by St. Wilfrid. Finally by the end of the 7th century all of England was at least nominally Christian.

Christianity introduced Sunday as a day of rest together with a permanent tax system of one tenth of your produce. Sacred oak trees were cut down and replaced with pine trees. Pagan temples were converted into churches. However some people continued to secretly worship the old pagan gods into the 8th century......

Drychten: Lord


The End?

Æthelberht didst meet, his wife's monks outside,
Because he would have, their magic denied.
When they built their church, much magic they wove,
And won him over, from his sacred grove.

That wise Rædwald kept, two altars laden,
A Christian next, to the old pagan.
Edwin of the North, gave up the pagan,
As Ethelburgh was, a Christian maiden.

Kings and Drychten did, the monks mesmerise,
Paeda of Mercia, did they then baptise.
Sussex held out but, a few years longer,
Those fay folk were, of the old gods fonder.

Each day of the Sun, we're granted some rest,
The new religion, gave us this new fest.
But tenth of our labours, by night and day,
To the village church, must we all now pay.

In church I must pray, to our given Lord,
But still have the runes, on my damask sword.
My spear is still cut, from Wodan's ash tree,
I sing over herbs, I pick three times three.

As to my Drychten, I am a good ward,
I follow his lead, unto his accord.
But to the old gods, I offer in stealth,
And make herbal charms, for restoring health.

Within my secret, faery woodland glade,
The old ones still come, to my natural aid.
Where votive offerings, they used to be laid,
A pine tree now stands, where libations were made.

But in deepest depth, of the wild green wood,
Where the mighty oak, of grey beard once stood.
And votive offerings, were solemnly laid,
The old gods doth now, into the mist fade.

We do sill have the, giver of treasure,
We sit at the feast, drinking much pleasure.
We still revel in, the smokey mead hall,
And in the still wood, the old gods still call.

Copyright Andrew Rea March 2015

Sunday, 23 November 2014

Fly leaf Leechdoms - Charm of Protection

Fly leaf Leechdoms - Charm of Protection, (P389)

This is an attempt to add (restore) a Pagan feel to this lessor known Anglo- Saxon charm.

I fortify myself in this rune staff and deliver myself into Wodan's allegiance,
Against the sore sigh,
Against the sore blow,
Against the grim horror,
Against the mickle terror, which is to everyone loathly,
And against all the loathly mischief which into the land may come:
A triumphant charm I chant,
A triumphant staff I bear.
Word victory and work victory:
Let this avail me,
Let no night mare mar me,
Nor my belly shrink me,
Nor fear come on me ever for my life, but may Drychten heal me.

Wodan worthy of all glory, as I have heard, heavens creator and eke, Frigg, a thousand of the bright elves I call to be a guard to me against all fiends. May they bear me up and
keep me in peace and protect my life, uphold me altogether, ruling my conduct;
May there be to me a hope of glory.
Hand over head:
The hall of Valhalla,
The regions of the glorious and triumphant, of the truthful wights.

With all blithe mood I pray, that for me, hand over head:
Dragon be my helmet,
Boar my coat of mail,
A light life's bulwark,
Wayland my sword, sharp and sheer edged,
Linden my shield, embellished with glory.

Ye Seraphim, guardians of the ways!
Forth I shall depart,
Friends I shall meet,
All the glory of the ese,
Through the lore of Drychten.

Now pray I to the victor for the mercy of the gods,
For a good departure,
For a good, mild, and light wind upon those shores,
The winds I know,
the encircling water,
ever preserved against all enemies.

Friends I shall meet, that I may dwell in Valhalla, yea, in his peace, protected against the loathsome one, who hunts me for my life, established in the glory of the ese, and in the hand of the mighty one of Valhalla, while I may live upon earth.
So mote it be.           





And here is the translation of the original:

A charm or prayer, P389
I fortify myself in this rod and deliver myself into
Gods allegiance, against the sore sigh, against the
sore blow, against the grim horror, against the mickle
terror, which is to everyone loathly, and against all the
loathly mischief which into the land may come: a
triumphant charm I chant, a triumphant rod I bear,
word victory and work victory : let this avail me,
let no night mare mar me, nor my belly swink me,
nor fear come on me ever for my life: but may the
Almighty heal me and his Son and the Paraclete Spirit,
Lord worthy of all glory, as I have heard, heavens
creator. Abraham and Isaac and such men, Moses and
Jacob, and David, and Joseph, and Eve, and Hannah
and Elizabeth, Sarah and eke Mary, mother of Christ,
and also a thousand of the angels I call to be a guard
to me against all fiends. May they bear me up and
keep me in peace and protect my life, uphold me
altogether, ruling my conduct; may there be to me
a hope of glory, hand over head, the hall of the
hallows, the regions of the glorious and triumphant, of
the truthful angels. With all blithe mood I pray, that
for me, hand over head, Matthew be helmet, Mark
brynie (coat of mail), a light lifes bulwark, Luke my sword, sharp
and sheeredged, John my shield, embellished with glory.
Ye Seraphim, guardians of the ways ! Forth I shall
depart, friends I shall meet, all the glory of angels,
through the lore of the blessed one. Now pray I to
the victor for Gods mercy, for a good departure, for
a good, mild, and light wind upon those shores ; the
winds I know, the encircling water, ever preserved
against all enemies. Friends I shall meet, that I
may dwell on the Almightys, yea, in his peace,
protected against the loathsome one, who hunts me
for my life, established in the glory of angels, and in
the holy hand of the mighty one of heaven, while I

may live upon earth. Amen.         

Saturday, 18 October 2014

Invocation by the Rune Trees 2

By the power of the mighty old oak,
By the sacred sanctity of the ash,
By the protection of the prick thorn trees,
By the exuberance of the first Birch,
By the lasting witness of long lived yew.

May the green wood spirit protect this space.

Saturday, 27 September 2014

Dragon's Quarters

Some fun casting the quarters with dragons

Dragons Quarters

Flying cockatrice guard the east,
Air dragon we doth bid thee hail.
Protect our circle with thine power,
From the other world lift thine veil.

Firedrake guard the gate to the south,
Oh great beast fortify the door.
Shield us here with thine fiery breath,
From thy wyrm bed return we implore

Sea serpent seal the western gate,
We doth water dragon call thee.
From thine watery depths arise,
We bid thee our rite oversee.

Crouching basilisk guard the north,
Earth dragon open thine dark eyes.
Serpent king we doth bid thee forth,
From long mists of time now arise.

Copyright Andrew Rea Autumn Equinox 2014

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Honouring the Rune Trees

Another short poem around the rune trees.

Honouring the Rune Trees


Oh Blackthorn that gives us, the sloe for taste,
And Hawthorn that crowns, fair heads to be chased.

Oh Oak that gives us, the strength of Gaia,
Oh Ash that is our, arrow, spear and fire.

Oh Yew that spared us, from our foes desires,
Oh Birch that doth light, our bright Beltaine fires.

We honour you here, in this woodland glade,
Every root, bower, branch, and sacred blade.


Copyright Andrew Rea August 2014

Saturday, 6 September 2014

Mabon


One of my first poems written for use in a Druid ritual.

Summer is now over,
Autumn has begun,
Night conquers day,
Harvest moon for the sun.

Honour the Green Man,
Mabon son of Mordon,
Goddess of the Earth,
On the Feast of Avalon.

Burn the Wicker Man,
Mother turned to Crone,
Goddess of winter food,
Reaping on Harvest Home.

Copyright Andrew Rea Autumn 2006



Sunday, 31 August 2014

Invocation by the Rune Trees

This is a short piece based on the five trees that have their own runs. I have split 'Thorn' into Blackthorn and Hawthorn.

Invocation by the Rune Trees

By the power of, the mighty old oak,
By the ash that wares, the sacred fire cloak.

By the protection of, the bold blackthorn,
Under Hawthorn garland, where thee were born.

By the witness of, the long living yew,
By the birch bursting forth, that is first to renew.

I call all rune trees, to witness our rite,
And guard us here on, this fine feasting night.
Protect us from foes, with your noble might,
And help make sacred, this fair woodland site.

So mote it be

Copyright Andrew Rea August 2014