Oak And Ash And Thorn

Of all the trees that grow so fair, old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the Sun, than Oak and Ash and Thorn.

     Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, good Sirs
     (All of a Midsummer’s morn)!
     Surely we sing of no little thing
     In Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day, or ever Aeneas began
Ash of the Loam was a lady at home, when Brut was an outlaw man
Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town, from which was London born
Witness hereby the ancientry, of Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and beech for cups also
But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled,
Your shoes are clean outworn
Back ye must speed for all that ye need, to Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Elm she hates mankind, and waits, till every gust be laid
To drop a limb on the head of him, that anyway trusts her shade
But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the horn
He’ll take no wrong when he lieth along, ’Neath Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight, or he would call it a sin;
But—we’ve been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring Summer in!
And we bring you news by word of mouth
Good news for cattle and corn –
Now is the Sun come up from the South, with Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Rudyard Kipling (1906), Peter Bellamy (1970)