Moder Hyld

The elder is the lady’s tree

If you burn it or harm it

Then cursed shall ye be’

Oh, cursed shall ye be!

Twisted and aged up there on the hill

Where many believe waters heal the ill

Fetishes tied on her dance in the breeze

Left by the lame and those cursed with disease

For a mother of nature, a spirit so free

Dwells there in the shade of the old elder tree

Well does she listen, and well does she know

All that occurs where the elderflower grows

‘The elder is the lady’s tree

If you burn it or harm it then cursed shall ye be’

Cursed shall ye be

She shall come for thee

She tends it, protects it and keeps it from harm

She’ll defend it from all with her spells and her charms

Though you’ll never see her, be sure that she’s there

In the lee of the bough and the trunk is her lair

Don’t come with your axes, don’t come with your saws

Don’t try to claim what’s not rightfully yours

If you take without asking, without her consent

Then you’ll feel the touch of her grave discontent

Break not the branch, nor the root or the leaf

Whatever the nature of your belief

Not without offering, not without prayer

Not first without homage to she who lives there

But if first you would ask her, if you would appease

Then much of your malady might she then ease

For knowledge and magic in her does reside

She has the power of nature inside

The Eldermother watches

The Eldermother knows

The Eldermother dwells where the elder-flower grows

The Eldermother watches

The Eldermother knows

The Eldermother dwells where the elder-power flows

Hey! Hey! Lady of the tree

Grant a piece of your might and your mercy to me!

Hey! Hey! Lady of the tree

Grant the gift of your wisdom and light unto me!