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