The Denge Marsh Lament
From mother to daughter, from father to son
We pass on the name of the Greatest Old One
This name it do speak unto all that we hath
It’s the name of our goddess, our Shub-Niggurath.
Tis Shub-Niggurath as we worship, and dread -
For she reigns o’er the living and dwells with the dead
O’er shoreline and beach, o’er heathland and marsh
She sees all that men do, and her judgement be harsh.
So Sing hi for the Devil of Denge Marsh, my boy
Sing ho for the Devil of Denge.
O in Denge we do dwell, to the sea we take heed
For the outside world offers us nuthin’ we need.
The Outsiders mock and insult all our ways
But they done fine for us since the ancient o’ days.
They say she’s the Devil – “Below she does dwell!”
But they’ll be the ones who are goin’ to hell.
She sleeps ‘neath the marshes, but one day will wake
And then the Outsiders will cower and quake!
They’ll fear for their souls then, the mis’rable curs
But we’ll afear nuthin’, ‘cause our souls are hers.
Sing ho for the Devil of Denge Marsh, my boy
Sing hi for the Devil of Denge.
Trad. - arr. Paul Morris
Click here to download the full version of the Denge Marsh Lament. [mp3 - 1.4 MB]
The Devil of Denge Marsh