When the hurt shall bring you woe,

God made the healing herb to grow



A bloom on the tree

When the apples are ripe

Means the end

Of somebody’s life



Ash when green

Is fuel for a Queen



The Michaelmas daisy

Among dead leaves

Blooms for St. Micheal’s

Valorous deeds



In dock, out nettle,

Don’t let the blood settle



Elder tree, Elder tree,

Crocked, wrong

Never straight

And never strong

Never bush

And never tree,

Since our Lord

Was nailed to thee



Under a thron,

Our saviour was born



If the sagebrush

Thrives and grows,

The master’s not master

-and he knows!



St. Agnes, that’s to lovers kind,

Come ease the trouble of my mind



Elm dogrieve, Oak do hate

Willow do walk; If you travels late