I dropped down in the witchwood To see what I could find The trees had taken time out To blow away my mind All that I could hear there Was the sound of my own voice But the music it was making Was nothing of my choice. The interwoven branches Were laden deep with snow A rainbow shone so softly To show which way to go I observed its many colours
Till my eyes were rimmed with frost I tried hard to trace my footsteps For I feared I might get lost. The witchwood started singing With a strange unearthly sound My fingers grew like branches I stood rooted to the ground And the spell is still unbroken I am still her bidden slave Till a casket from the witchwood Bears my body to the grave.