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Message: <blockquote data-quote="TheAuldGrump" data-source="post: 2082336" data-attributes="member: 6957">Now the Green Blade Riseth (Greater Lansing Spinster's Guild)Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,Wheat that in the dark Earth many days has lain.Love lives again, that with the dead has been.Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.Now the spirit stirreth at the stricken rootFrom the rotted tree stump springs a living shootMold, muck and clay bring for the green of MayLove is come again like wheat that springeth greenIn the Earth they laid them in a barren placeWitches from the burning nameless and erased.Rising again, their ashes feed the grain.We are come again like wheat that springeth green.Now the wasteland bloometh from the hidden budin the rocky desert, rivers brim and floodDry bones will sing, the quickening of springLove is come again like wheat that springeth greenA pagan filk of the hymn by the same title.Oak, Ash, and Thorn (Words, Rudyard Kipling. Music, Peter Bellamy)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 o'er ever Aeneas beganAsh of the loam was a lady at home when Brut was an outlaw man,And Thorn of the down saw new Troy town, from which was London bornWitness hereby the ancient try of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.     Sing . . .Yew that is old, in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bowAlder for shoes do wise men choose, and Beech for cups alsoBut when you have killed, and you bowl it is filled, and your     shoes are clean outwornBack you must speed for all that you need to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn     Sing . . .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  thehorn,He'll taketh no wrong when he lyeth along 'neath Oak, and Ash, and     Thorn     Sing . . .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 good news by word of mouth, good news for cattle     and cornNow is the sun come up from the south, by Oak, and Ash, and     Thorn.     Sing . . .The lyrics are from Puck of Pook's Hill, as sung by Rogers & Barrand on Dark Ship's in the Forest, a great album for gaming...The Auld Grump</blockquote>

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