Oak Ash and Thorn by Timothy Adès

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 on 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 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 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 you have killed and your bowl is spilled And your shoes are clean outworn Back ye must speed for all that ye need To 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 Ellum she hates mankind and waits Till every gust be laid To drop a limb on the head of him Who any way 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 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 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 Sing oak and ash and thorn good sirs All of a midsummer's morn England shall bide till Judgement Tide By oak and ash and thorn.

Of trunks and boughs which Luck allows Fair Albion to adorn, Naught is so grand in all our land As oak and ash and thorn. Sing oak and ash and thorn, good sirs, All on a long day’s morn: Good folk shall sing, no paltry thing, Of oak and ash and thorn. OAK on our clay saw stop and stay Troy’s pious lord forlorn; ASH on our loam saw Brutus roam, An outlaw put to scorn; THORN on our Down saw young Troy Town, From which was London born. Thus all may know that long ago Stood oak and ash and thorn. - Sing oak and ash and thorn, good sirs, All on a long day’s morn: Good folk shall sing, no paltry thing, Of oak and ash and thorn. TAXUS grows old in churchyard mould And spawns a mighty bow; ALNUS is put on snug-shod foot, FAGUS to cups will go; A kingdom’s built, a bowl is spilt, A boot’s cast off, outworn: You shall go back for what you lack To oak and ash and thorn. - Sing oak and ash and thorn, good sirs, All on a long day’s morn: Good folk shall sing, no paltry thing, Of oak and ash and thorn. ULMUS abhors mankind, and waits In calm, if not in storm, To drop a limb on top of him Who trusts that shady form. But any lad who’s spry or sad Or high on hops from horn Cannot go wrong by lying long In oak and ash and thorn. - Sing oak and ash and thorn, good sirs, All on a long day’s morn Good folk shall sing, no paltry thing, Of oak and ash and thorn. Blurt to no parson of our plight: A parson calls it sin, Our frolicking in woods all night To summon long days in. Glad tidings run by word of mouth Of joy for cow and corn, For now Sir Sun strolls up from south With oak and ash and thorn. - Sing oak and ash and thorn, good sirs, All on a long day’s morn: Fair Albion shall not pass away With oak and ash and thorn!