The Goddess With Child

by Leafblade

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    Also includes full-colour artwork and lyrics booklet, in pdf format.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £10 GBP  or more


  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    The Goddess With Child, CD. Full-colour jewel case with artwork by Anthony Potts.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Goddess With Child via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 7 days

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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 8 Leafblade releases available on Bandcamp and save 20%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Dreamer at the Plough (Selected Poems) eBook, Covid Sessions 2020, The Goddess With Child, It Seems That I've Found..., Mannaseech's Dance Through the Feathers, The Kiss of Spirit and Flesh, Beyond, Beyond, and To the Moonlight. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      £34.40 GBP or more (20% OFF)


Spring may break her flame, Summer with her games; From May fest till mid-June She blazes with her tune. Harvest sees the kill; September binds the thrill Of autumn-antlered lord, With Samhain oaken sword. The Yule upon us beams; Winter, silent, dreams, Nurtures in the womb A sun for Imbolc bloom! Through all the year’s turn From spring to winter burn Our woodland hill is there Beneath the mighty stare Of cloud and kestrel’s eye, And wondrous breath of sky Where we sing our year’s songs Through the fire night long. Three fires warm our hearts, Melt the stars afar With woodland love and light – The pagan child’s delight! Through all the year’s turn From spring to winter burn, Our woodland hill is there!
A time it was, that golden road called life, Gleaming as we did through love and strife; Oh, how we tempered ourselves, like sunlight, Oh, how we measured, our depths, our heights! A time it was, to dance within the air, To laugh as one with all that’s singing there; Oh, how we listened, away to river’s song; Oh how we cherished our time, day not long!
By the Brook 03:08
By the light of the dwindling moon, The knight rode upon his white horse, And following the paths through the wooded glens, Came upon the river’s wild course. So, up and down the dales, Through sleepy village ways, The knight rode on to the brook, And as he looked above, he thought of his love, Awaiting him at the brook... By midnight, he’d arrived at the place, And it shone like the beauty in his lady’s face. He stepped towards her by the light of the moon And they fell upon a warm embrace. Neither of them spoke of the love in the air; The knight just stared at her moonlit hair... “Tell me,” he said, “tomorrow, at the games, “Grant me a token of your love.” “Sire,” she replied, “I would surely agree – “A silken scarf cleansed from above.” The time they spent together was short and brief, For when he had departed she was near to grief... After they had gone, The birds sang their midnight songs, And praised the breaking of the dawn.
(i) From the Scented Wildwoods At the flowering of spring, The sabbat round he entered, The youthful one, lusting free - The embodiment of instinct, In tune with sweet Nature, The Light of the greenwood eaves. Beth-Luis-Nion! (Birch, Rowan, Ash!) Uath, mo chroidh! (Hawthorn, my heart!) Thus, spoke the goddess, Whence light equals darkness; The seed within her growing… And though their coupling complete, The hunter horned he remained, The scented wildwoods roaming… The fires of Beltaine, the marriage fires, Blazed across the land; The clinnad sang the Horned forth, To take his chosen bride, To celebrate his antlered youth, The lover for the May Queen, To be the father for the child within, The rosiest bud in the green. Beth-Luis-Nion! Uath, mo chroidh!
(ii) The Springtide Round In every gleaming clinnad eye Licked the dancing firelight; She would walk into the wild, ritual glades, The living night… Until with a trembling, a haunting, Deep, throated call, A youth donning antlers, amber beads, holly leaves, Would walk amidst their glowing forms, His eyes awash with mystery, A whisper in the summer light, Awaiting her words. Then with but the dancing, crackling away, Of the Beltaine flames’ sweet songs, She’d make her plea in the vibrant night, Before the bright-eyed throng…
(iii) Prothalamion Instrumental
Beeston 04:41
Soft, the castle calls, To a heart inside its walls, And there she breaks her flame On meadows old in name… Hawthorn smiles and Rowan climes away; Grey swifts wheel the dusk at end of day. Blessed, her ancient groves, Where sweet, the wild rose roves, Through the thorny still, To the sunset hill; Her bright crown claims the sunset’s beams afar, Where once a king had cast his dreams afar… Unbroken, flow her songs of old, as one; Her treasures sleep in earthly cold, as one… Open heart and open mind Soar above in gilded flight – A majesty still breathes here, Sworn to rule, as long as light Graces hills and silent vales With loving deeds and mighty tales.
Fleur-de-Lys 03:35
Sweet fleur de lys, Grace my heart and my blade. Sweet fleur de lys… May thy foliate spirit grow.
Silent Night, Holy Night, All is calm, all is bright, Round yon virgin, Mother and child, Holy infant, so tender and mild… Where the stars wheel the sky, Whence the frost, armoured, falls, Pensive owl, wide-eyed, calls; Where the ageless sunbeams dance and die, “In the slow woods thou wilst one day lie,” The sere voice of ages My heart softly assuages. Where the webs in the branches play, Whence the hammock moon in silvered east The stark, winter frozen feast Imbibes the coldness of the day, Weaves the spring to summer’s way, The sweet Yuletide giving birth Dances in her loving mirth. Where the sleeping buds have cast their dreams, Where the ghost of the shroud Has to the clouds Plied its breath in other realms, The holly’s crown has earthward grown... Streaming from afar, The haunting stars... The haunting... Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright... Where the winter to the sky, Its spirit the ice sojourns, Embraces, to its mother turns; Where the lullaby warms awhile, “In the slow woods thou wilst one day lie,” The sere voice of ages My heart softly assuages. Where the sleeping buds have cast their dreams, Where the ghost of the shroud Has to the clouds... Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright... [Narration, from Old Provider] Little children, lie the Yule Eve at peace; The stars themselves may be your grace, Yet remember, before this great feast day, Lying sleeping, warm, in your bed: For he, a plate of fish and fowl you must leave, Else One Eye shall take your head!
Racing through the southern downs, The ageless horses of myth Canter through the shaman’s dream, Losing him in their breath. Carved on the hillsides and old chalky dales, [Songs of the great dragon lore], The dragon-horse dragons breathe fuelling the life, Kissed by the mother before… Giants, to, wander the green hollow hills, Arthur, or Hermes, or Thoth: Songs of the land lit by long-sleeping minds, Restless with thundery wrath. The land is the blood and the blood is the land, The carbon of skin, wood and heart – Here the ancients dance, vital and pure Through myth, through the blood of the stars...
There’s a fire in the wood, And a fire in my heart, A song in the land, A dream in the river; There’s a moon for every flower, A song for every tree, A dance for every star, A book for every day. Everywhere I see memory, Imagination, And the mountains in the snow Watch me as I go… A silence in the forest Listens to what we are: Ghosts, in truth, whispers, Kings and queens… I am, I was, I will be.


*Prices are pre-tax. VAT is added at checkout, forwarded to the government then sequestered in the Cayman Islands against our wishes*


released March 20, 2020

Sean Jude - Vocals, six and twelve-string electric and acoustic guitars, classical guitar
Brian Cummins - Bass, fretless bass, Taurus pedals
Thomas Legg - Drums, percussion, keyboards

Three Fire Hill: Kevin Murphy plays guest bass
The Goddess With Child: Brian Cummins sings backing vocals

Song origination, lyrics & poetry by Sean Jude
Music by Leafblade

Produced, mixed and engineered at Invisible Studios UK by Brian Cummins
Music recorded at the Leafblade studio by Thomas Legg
Drums recorded at Elusive Studios by Greg Hay-Moulder and Zach Hogan
Post engineering, additional drums and percussion recorded at Invisible Studios UK by Brian Cummins
Digital Disc Mastering at DBA by David Bennett, produced by Mark Olly
Creative Artwork by Anthony Potts, art management and graphic design by Mark Olly

Many thanks to Pete Gilchrist for the archiving, both of current material and of the Leafblade treasures to come.


all rights reserved



Leafblade Liverpool, UK

Sean Jude - Vocals, Guitar
Kevin Murphy - Bass
Thomas Legg - Drums, Percussion, Keys

Liverpool (UK) based prog rock trio.

A rich blending of powerful evocations through progressive and Celtic metal, gripping rock anthems and hauntingly acoustic refrains, rich with storytelling imagery, myth and sacred geometry.
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