For anyone celebrating Lammas/Lughnasadh today, here's a little gift for you. I hope you enjoy it.
TEXT:
LAMMAS
The corn is rising, ear by ear, Out of the graves of yesteryear. Roman, Saxon, Viking dead Become the dirt that gives us bread.
Every clash with gun or sword Is welcome to the Furrow-Lord. He whispers to the wounded men to sleep, and sink, and rise again.
He cares not for what cause they fight-- Their blood itself is his delight. These hallowed fields have been his own Since man first chiseled flakes from stone.
So eat your loaf and quaff your beer To mark the turning of the year, But walk the furrows with a care-- Something dreadful's dwelling there.