Bonfire Prayers

Remember, remember the Fifth of November The Gunpowder Treason

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Bonfire Anthem

Now is the time for marching Now let your hearts be gay Hark to

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Lewes Bonfire Night Poem - Lewes Bonfire Night Celebrations

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LEWES BONFIRE NIGHT

Lewes stands tense;
Tonight; at last tonight;
We’ve waited, hoped and waited all long year.
A BANG shakes us in sweet expected fright.
It’s Bonfire Night – tonight – at last it’s here.
As startled children skitter left and right
With effervescent fun and hear and hope;
Another BANG;
Sheer firework delight;
The Bonfire Boys will come to burn the Pope
The Bonfire Boys will come to burn the Pope
And fry Guy Fawkes,
Tonight.

Across the street a flag renames each name
Of Lewes martyrs burned by mighty Rome.
That banner marks Pope Paul’s eternal shame;
Their names live, honoured still by their old home.
Those brave unflinching few who faced the flames;
Those brave unflinching few who faced the flames,
And dared defy the wrath of tawdry Rome.

 


At last it’s dark: a drum, we hear a drum;
Smell acrid smoke and see the dull red glow,
Now on the bridge, bright blazing crosses come;
These fiery burning crosses make us know
That seventeen brave souls burned long ago,
Yes: seventeen brave souls burned long ago,
Because they would not bend their knee to Rome.

But Mary’s martyrs did not die in vain.
Another BANG – and children whoop with glee.
They suffered burning agonising pain
So English men and women will be free.
Not bend the knee like slavish France,
Not bend the knee like slavish France and Spain,
But live our lives in English anarchy.

And that’s what Bonfire Night is all about;
Those precious freedoms, which we all hold dear,
Political correctness, we will flout;
We’ll burn the Pope (and Guy Fawkes) every year.
So if we want, we’ll drink and laugh and shout;
We’ll do just what we want;
We’ll do just what we want and show no fear.
And as they burn we’ll raise a rousing cheer.

We’ll stand and cheer the Bonfire Boys march past
Red In’juns, Romans, Vikings stride the street
The Pirates, Redcoats, Zulus all amassed,
All marching with the music’s clang’rous beat.
Each Bonfire Night seems better than the last.
They’ll always march through Lewes in November;
They’ll always march so that we still remember,
With burning crosses and with marching feet.

It’s ten o’clock, it’s time to light the fire;
While sizzling rockets shoot up overhead.
The crackling orange flames crunch ever higher
And in the sky, a star bursts silvery red.
A raucous cheer is roused by one and all.
We’re here to fry Guy Fawkes
We’re here to fry Guy Fawkes and roast Pope Paul
And flames lick up around their funeral pyre.

How great to hear sweet children laugh and shout
Whilst rockets spray the night sky full of light.
They do not know (or care) what it’s about
But love November’s mesmerising sight.
The Bonfire is the Bonfire Boys’ great love
And Men of Lewes never will be druv.
Political correctness, they will flout:
Hypocrisy and can let us all flout,
Long after the last bonfire has gone out.

By John Riddington Young, A retired ear, nose and throat consultant from Devon. He wrote “I wanted to go to Lewes for many years and eventually went after I retired in 2013”

#lewesbonfire #bonfirenight

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