Order of Service

Memorial for Alan Brien
1925-2008

Wednesday 19th November 2008

ST PAUL’S
CHURCH
COVENT GARDEN

Rector

The Reverend Simon Grigg

Organist

Simon Gutteridge

The Bidding

The Reverend Simon Grigg

Hymn

He who would valiant be
‘Gainst all disaster,
Let him in constancy
Follow the Master.
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Who so beset him round
With dismal stories,
Do but themselves confound --
His strength the more is.
No foes shall stay his might,
Though he with giants fight:
He will make good his right
To be a pilgrim.

Since, Lord, thou dost defend
Us with thy Spirit,
We know we at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies flee away!
I’ll fear not what men say,
I’ll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

John Bunyan 1628-1688

Address

Jane Hill

‘Herrin’s Head’

Sung by Bob Davenport

Oh! what'll I do with my herrin’s head,
Oh! what'll I do with my herrin’s head?
I‘ll mak’ ’em into loaves of bread,
Herrin’s head,
Loaves of bread,
And all manner of things.

(Chorus)
Of all the fish that live in the sea,
The herrin’ is the one for me.
How are you the-day
How are you the-day
How are you the-day
My hinny lad.

What'll I do with my herrin’s eyes,
What'll I do with my herrin’s eyes?
I‘ll mak’ ‘em into puddings and pies,
Herrin’s eyes,
Puddings and pies,
Herrin’s head,
Loaves of bread,
And all manner of things. (Chorus)

What'll I do with my herrin’s fins,
What'll I do with my herrin’s fins?
I’ll mak’ ‘em into needles and pins,
Herrin’s fins,
Needles and pins,
Herrin’s eyes,
Puddings and pies,
Herrin’s head,
Loaves of bread,
And all manner of things. (Chorus)

What'll I do with my herrin’s tails,
What'll I do with my herrin’s tails?
I’ll mak’ ‘em into a ship that sails,
etc. (Chorus)

What'll I do with the herrin’s guts,
What'll I do with the herrin’s guts?
I’ll mak’ ‘em into a pair o’ boots,
etc. (Chorus)

Address

Paul Vaughan

Alan by Himself

‘Violence is the Repartee of the Illiterate’, Quote…Unquote (Nigel Rees), BBC Radio 4, 1985

In the Boiler Room

Written and played by Susie Honeyman (violin)

Address and Reading

Valerie Grove

Alan Brien, New Statesman, May 23 1969

“I remember noting, when I first came to London, how often the names of stores in the ads sounded like the baby-talk of the Nanny Mafia in Kensington Gardens -- ‘Don’t be so selfridge, Master Fortnum. Eat up all your harrods, and then you can have a gorringe. You’ll do yourself a gamage, mark my words, unless you have a c. and a. every morning on the derry and tom. Ponting is rude. I knew a child once died of the Whiteleys after too many burberries’.”

Hymn

Sung by Bob Davenport, to the traditional tune ‘The Rose Tree’,
with Roger Digby on anglo concertina

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.

William Blake 1757-1827

Reading

Terry Jones

‘My Beloved Compares Herself to a Pint of Stout’, Paul Durcan

Reading

Nigel Wild

Alan Brien’s Diary, The Sunday Times, June 18 1972

‘A new, welcome addition to any political get-together, an ironic, fantasy essay by folk-singer Bob Davenport. The problem of the North East, he argued, was how to replace industry by tourism- hijacking the Yanks on their way to Edinburgh. His solution? “A dude pit”, like a dude ranch, where visitors (after a D.H. Lawrence crash course on the plane) could spend a shift under ground, suffer a mock disaster with stereophonic sound, and be rescued with their names on a casualty list in the local paper.’

The Drum (Retort on Mordent’s ‘The Call’)

Sung by Bob Davenport with Roger Digby on anglo concertina

I hate that drum’s discordant sound,
Parading round, and round, and round:
To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields,
And lures from cities and from fields,
To sell their liberty for charms
Of tawdry lace, and glittering arms;
And when Ambition’s voice commands,
To march, and fight, and fall, in foreign lands.

I hate that drum’s discordant sound,
Parading round, and round, and round:
To me it talks of ravag’d plains,
And burning towns, and ruin’d swains,
And mangled limbs, and dying groans,
And widows’ tears, and orphans’ moans;
And all that misery’s hand bestows,
To fill the catalogue of human woes.

John Scott of Amwell 1730-1783

Alan by Himself

‘Sacred Cows’ extract from ‘Face Your Image’ (Malcolm Muggeridge), presented by David Dimbleby, 1974

The Internationale

The Morriston Orpheus Choir of Wales, recording from ‘The Road to Wigan Pier‘ (Director, Frank Cvitanovitch), Thames TV, 1973

Arise ye starvelings from your slumbers
Arise ye criminals of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant
Now away with all your superstitions,
Servile masses arises arise!
We'll change forthwith the old conditions
And spurn the dust to win the prize!

(Chorus)
Then comrades come rally
And the last fight let us face.
The Internationale unites the human race,
Then, comrades, come rally!
And the last fight let us face.
The Internationale unites the human race.

We peasants, artisans and others
Enrolled among the sons of toil,
Let's claim the earth henceforth for brothers,
Drive the indolent from the soil.
On our flesh too long has fed the raven,
We've too long been the vulture's prey.
But now farewell the spirit craven,
The dawn brings in a brighter day. (Chorus)

No Saviours from on high deliver,
No faith have we in prince or peer.
Our own right hand the chains of must shiver,
Chains of hatred, of greed and fear.
Ere the thieves will out with their booty
And to all give a happier lot,
Each at the forge must do his duty,
And strike the iron while it's hot! (Chorus)

Eugene Pottier 1816 - 1887

Blessing and Prayers

The Reverend Simon Grigg