From mother to mother, this is the bargain:
Old Woman, Old Woman,
Give me your wood
And when I am dead
I will give you mine.
Steep black berries in whiskey,
kindle elderfire, stay warm all winter.
Indoors, a stick tucked in your kist,
keeps your clothes sweet and the devil away.
If you cut it, friend to witches, it will bleed –
ask before you steal berry, bloom or branch:
Old Woman, Old Woman,
Give me your wood
And when I am dead
I will give you mine.
The healingest tree that on earth do grow,
the whole plant hath a narcotic smell.
It is not well to sleep under its shade –
you may never wake up again.
Playground for fairies – one, the faun
Phynodderree, will bring good luck,
lend a hand in the garden, protect
your house against lightning.
Spin it thrice, this is the bargain:
Old Woman, Old Woman,
Give me your wood
And when I am dead
I will give you mine.