Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!

Of all the trees that are in the wood
Old England to adorn
Greater are none beneath the sun
Than oak and ash and thorn
Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!

Oak of the clay saw many a day
E'er ever Aeneas began
Ash of the loam was a lady at home
When Brute 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, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!
Yew that is old in graveyard mould
He breedeth a mighty bow
Alder for shoes do wise folk choose
And beech for cups also
But when you have killed, and your bowl is spilled
Your shoes are clean outworn
Back ye must speed for all that you need
To oak and ash and thorn!

Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!

Now, Ellum she hates mankind, and waits
'Til 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 commit no wrong when he lieth along
'Neath oak and ash and thorn!

Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!
Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!

Now, do not tell the priests of our right
For they would call it a sin
But we've been out in the woods all night
A-conjuring summer in!
And now we bring good word by mouth
For children, cattle, and corn
Now is the sun come up from the south
With oak and ash and thorn!

Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!

Sing oak and ash and thorn, my love
All on a midsummer's morn!
Surely we sing of no little thing
With oak and ash and thorn!