Mistletoe Bough - Steeleye Span

The mistletoe bough in the olden time

Was honoured in many a sacred rhyme

By bards and by singers of high degree

When cut from its place on the old oak tree

By white-robed Druid with golden knife

For they thought it a magical Tree of Life

And many a promise and holy vow

They were solemnly sworn on the mistletoe bough

The mistletoe bough in the Norseman’s lay

Told ever of horrors, and love’s dismay

When the old blind god, by a sportive blow

Laid Balder, the beautiful sun god, low

Thenceforth it was deemed an accursed thing

But love out of sorrow could victory bring

And the tears of Freja are shining now

Like the orient, pearls on the mistletoe bough

The mistletoe bough on the festive throng

Looks down amid echoes of mirthful song

Where hearts they make music, as old friends meet

Whose pulse keeps the time to the dancer’s feet

And eyes they are brighter with looks of love

Than gems outshining the lamps up above

And who is she that will not allow

A kiss that’s claimed under the mistletoe bough?

From the regions of the east

There came a strong and handsome beast

Slow indeed his paces are

None with donkey can compare

For the load that he will bear

Hail, Sir Donkey, hail