"A Salute to Saint Knut"

Up in the North,
Where winter’s dark,
There rose a king
Who had a spark:
“Let’s lengthen Christmas,
Add some days,
Enjoy its light,
Extend its rays!”

And so to fight
The cold and bleak,
He added on
Another week:
“Till Jan. 13th!”
The king decreed,
“More Yuletide cheer
To meet our need!”

The wise old king
Who had this thought
Was King Knut,
That’s how it’s taught;
It’s spelled that way,
For Swedes, you see,
Need not an “a”
Nor ending “e.”

And it’s OK
To start his name
With “K” not “C,”
It’s all the same;
But when you spell it
As “Knut,”
Sound out the “K,”
It is not mute.

One other thing
To be reviewed:
The Danes will spell it
As “Knud.”
As for Norwegians,
We cannot tell;
They still use runes,
If they can spell.

Now that we’ve shown
That our “Canute”
Is Anglicized,
Can you “Knut”?
We like this spelling,
However, but
Not for “salute”--
It comes out “slut.”

So if you’re Swede
Or if you ain’t,
Salute Knut--
The guy’s a saint!
More precious than
A jewel from Tiffany,
He gave us “Jul”
Beyond Epiphany.

And so from Belleville
To Beirut,
Come join us in
Our glad salute:
Take up your horn
And give a toot;
Let’s raise a toast
To Saint Knut!

I remember the classic Genesis song “Can Utility and the Coastliners”, based on the legend of King Canute, from the album Foxtrot:

The scattered pages of a book by the sea
Held by the sand, washed by the waves
A shadow forms cast by a cloud,
Skimming by as eyes of the past, but the rising tide
Absorbs them effortlessly claiming.

They told of one who tired of all singing,
“Praise him, praise him.”
“We heed not flatterers,” he cried,
“By our command, waters retreat,
Show my power, halt at my feet,”
But the cause was lost,
Now cold winds blow.

For from the north overcast ranks advance
Fear of the storm accusing with rage and scorn.
The waves surround the sinking throne
Singing “Crown him, crown him,”
“Those who love our majesty show themselves!”
All bent their knees.

But he forced a smile even though
His hopes lay dashed where offerings fell (where they fell).
“Nothing can my peace destroy as long as none smile.”
More opened ears and opened eyes,
And soon they dared to laugh.
See a little man with his face turning red
Though his story’s often told you can tell he’s dead.

A little before my time and not necessarily my cup o’ tea, but here is a nice effort for a cover version.

Ah, those endless classic rock jams!!

Anyway a toast to King Kanute! happy Feast Day.

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