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Winternight Whisperings

by Valentine Wolfe

Hanover Winter Song For the wolf-wind is wailing at the doorways, And the snow drifts deep along the road, And the ice gnomes are marching from their Norways, And the great white cold walks abroad. But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm; Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire. For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows; And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship. Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm; Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire. For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows. And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship, And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship. For the fire goblins flicker on the ceiling, And the wine witch glitters in the glass, And the smoke wraiths are drifting, curling, reeling, And the sleigh bells jingle as they pass. For the room has a spirit in the embers, Tis a God and our fathers knew his name, And they worship'd in long-forgot Decembers, And their hearts leap'd high with the flame.
A Christmas Carol Before the shining rays of dawn Intrude upon my reverie Let me dwell within the dark With my ghosts of Christmas past I will rise to greet the morn Convene with merriment and mirth Join in fellowship with all But for now I must reflect On shadowed faces barely seen Deserving of a memory Reminders of what might have been Of things perhaps to come Solemn is this final hour So many shadows creeping in This moment sadly will not last But I must revel in it Each story that cries out to me Each sad song that I hear Leaves a lasting gentle touch When I open and draw near
Let All That Are to Mirth Inclined Let all that are to mirth inclin'd, Consider well, and bear in mind, What our good God for us has done, In sending his beloved Son. Let all your songs and praises be Unto His Heavenly Majesty; And evermore; amongst our mirth Remember Christ our Saviour's birth The twenty-fifty day of December We have good cause for to remember: In Bethlehem upon that morn, There was the bless'd Messiah born.
Why do bells for Christmas ring? Why do bells for Christmas ring? Why do little children sing? Once a lovely, shining star, Seen by shepherds from afar, Gently moved until its light Made a manger-cradle bright. There a darling baby lay Pillowed soft upon the hay. And his mother sang and smiled, “This is Christ, the holy child." So the bells for Christmas ring, So the little children sing.
We Three Kings We three kings of Orient are Bearing gifts, we traverse afar. Field and fountain, moor and mountain, Following yonder star. O Star of Wonder, Star of Night, Star with Royal Beauty bright, Westward leading, Still proceeding, Guide us to Thy perfect Light. Born a King on Bethlehem plain, Gold I bring to crown Him again, King forever, ceasing never Over us all to reign. Frankincense to offer have I; Incense owns a Deity nigh: Prayer and praising, all men raising, Worship Him God on high. Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume; Breathes a life of gathering gloom: — Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
Veni, Veni, Emmanuel O come, O come, Emmanuel And ransom captive Israel That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel O come, thou branch of Jesse! Draw The quarry from the lion’s claw From the dread caverns of the grave From nether hell, thy people save Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel O come, O come, thou Dayspring bright Pour on our souls thy healing light Dispel the long night’s lingering gloom And pierce the shadows of the tomb Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel Nascetur pro te, Israel
The Bellman’s Song The moon shone bright and the stars gave a light, A little before the day; Our Lord, our God, looked down on us, And bade us awake and pray. Awake, awake, good people all, Awake and you shall hear Our Lord, our God, died on the cross For us whom he loved so dear. O fair, O fair Jerusalem, When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end, Thy joy that I may see? The fields were green as green could be, When from his glorious seat Our Lord, our God, he watered us With his heavenly dew so sweet. And for the saving of our souls Christ died upon the cross. We ne'er shall do for Jesus Christ As he hath done for us. The life of man is but a span, And cut down in its flower: We are here today, tomorrow are gone, The creatures of an hour.
Silent Night 02:50
The Bloody Bonnet at Blue Hole Back before the Civil War in what they called the antebellum days, up near a little Georgia town called Varnell, there was a main road that ran, called the Federal road that ran from Ringgold, Ga to Varnell and points beyond. And one Christmas Eve, some folks say around 1833 or so, a stagecoach driver was making a midnight run from Ringgold coming back to Varnell. It was late. It was stormy. He was cold and so were his passengers. He was working the six horses out front pretty good. About halfway to Varnell, the horses stopped in the middle of the road. No good reason. Couldn’t tell a thing that was going on. He thought is was a bear. Looked up, horses would not move, nothing moving in the underbrush. He laid on the whip. Gave it to them for all they were worth. And, you know what happened? The horses would not move for love or money. Until finally, after he laid a couple open, they moved forward into a brand new sinkhole that had just opened up in the road called the Blue Hole. About 75 foot wide and deep enough that when the stage went in; stage, driver, passengers, and horses, and all, none of them has been recovered to this day. But, kind of a funny story, now the paved road, which I believe was called US 41, bypasses the Blue Hole but it’s still there, all 175 years later. But if you go up that way on a hike or out deer hunting or something, you may see a headless figure looking mournfully into the Blue Hole because supposedly the horses got so irate at the application of the whip that they kicked him. And one of them kicked his head clean off. And he comes back and marvels over his act of folly trying to get those horses to move. Now I say the passengers and the coach and the horses vanished without a trace but that’s not exactly true. Some folks say that a bloody bonnet and a broken horse whip were found on the bank of the Blue Hole. but if you go up that way now, reports are you’ll hear the crack of a horse whip. You may well feel the rush of the carriage as it goes past trying to keep that Christmas Eve appointment. But the most likely thing you’ll see is that poor gentlemen staring into the Blue Hole wondering where his life went so terribly wrong.
Wexford Carol Good people all, this Christmas time, Consider well and bear in mind What our good God for us has done In sending his beloved Son. With Mary holy we should pray To God with love this Christmas day; In Bethlehem upon that morn There was a blessed Messiah born. There were three wise men from afar Directed by a glorious star, And on they wandered night and day Until they came where Jesus lay. And when they came unto that place Where our beloved Messiah was, They humbly cast them at his feet, With gifts of gold and incense sweet.
Winternight Whisperings Darkness without, darkness within I can’t escape these feelings So I walk these moonless paths Winternight whisperings forevermore Chills can creep and burrow deep None can quench the fires within I will journey ever on Winternight whisperings forevermore Winternight whisperings Darkness without, darkness within Winternight whisperings Cloaked in shadows of the night Past that hill, over the mountain Though the frosty winds make moan Though the icicles threaten madness Winternight whisperings forevermore With every step I have to take I feel the gaping loss of you Every footstep I can’t see Pristine snow cannot lie, tells me you are gone Some might choose to find new love Some might choose to forge ahead But I love the darkness now Winternight whisperings forevermore You may choose to greet the dawn You may hope to find new love I will never be alone Winternight whisperings forevermore


"Marley was dead, to begin with..."
So opens one of the most famous ghost stories of all time.
In the bleak midwinter, Victorians liked nothing more during the holiday season than to light a candle and tell ghost stories. Ghost stories of Christmases Past will walk once more, conjured with Victorian Chamber metal band, Valentine Wolfe's haunted music and story teller Tally Johnson's eerie ghost stories.
We hope to evoke shadows and mysterious flickers in the candlelight and ghosts reaching out to pull you into music both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.


released November 30, 2018

Tally Johnson is the ghost hunter appearing on The Bloody Bonnet at Blue Hole.


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Valentine Wolfe Greenville, South Carolina

Two morbidly fascinated musicians combining ambient solo bass, brutal distortion, electronica, and 18th century opera to tell a story of the macabre.

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