Down in the Wood
(Children’s Song)
A wolf or a witch or a bear.
If you meet one in the wood
It will give you quite a scare.
ROAR!
Down, dark, deep!
Down, dark, deep!
Down in the wood, dark in the wood, deep in the wood
Where the creatures creep!
Down in the wood, dark in the wood, deep in the wood
Where the spiders sleep
And the bees in the trees,
Buzzing in the breeze,
Buzzing in the rustling leaves!
Down, dark, deep!
Down, dark, deep!
© Words Gill Horitz Music Helen Porter
Enter a Wood
Enter a wood of oaks and beeches,
The mystery surrounds you.
Walk in a wood of ash and hazel
In the evening breeze
And the willow seeds drift like cobwebs
Spun by the holly leaves.
Lost in a wood of oaks and beeches
The darkness surrounds you.
Whisper of secrets
Locked in the ghosts of long dead trees
And the willow seeds drift like cobwebs
Spun by the holly leaves.
The echoing axe,
The crack of branch,
The rustle of autumn leaves.
A fool sees not the same tree
That a wise man sees
And the willow seeds drift like cobwebs
Spun by the holly leaves.
It takes only minutes to fell a tree,
And a lifetime to grow one.
© Words Gill Horitz Music Helen Porter
Monmouth and the King
Traditional
When stout young Jemmy went abroad
To see the Northern Races,
He met ten Thousands in the Road,
That swore they were his Graces,
They flock about him day and night,
And made the Skyes to ring
And every one seem to delight
In Monmouth and the King.
Both Gray and Green, both old and young,
The Rich as well as poor,
Had nought but Monmouth on their tongue,
In every Loyal Door,
His Presence made them all rejoyce,
A Happy man was he,
That could prevail with his loud voice,
This noble Duke to see.
A sullen look we could not find
Where ever Monmouth went
The Nobles were exceeding kind,
He gave them great content,
His very Presence like the Sun,
Could drive the clouds away,
Their Glory they did think begun,
And blest that Happy-day.
In King and Monmouth we delight,
And for their lives we pray,
It’s they must do the Free-born right,
It’s they and only they;
If they be for us, where’s the evil,
That we can undergo,
We fear no Duke, no Pope, nor Divel,
Nor any other Foe.
Villagers’ Chorus:
And for our lives do pray
How do I know what game is fair
And what I ought to say?
Forest Boundaries
Names are the palings of the forest as all morning we walk
Sounding their syllables in the shade of oaks
Horton Crosse to Newman Lane by the coppice to Dowager’s Ford
Over Ameysford at Uddens Water
Thence to Clayford and upstream
Upstream to Pilforde Lane.
Onto Long Lanes and the corner of Merriefield
Then a sharp turn north west down the lane
Devydeth Mister Gouven’s ground
And Dogdean into Girrendge Lane.
Hogmans Hill, Red Cross and Hell Corner at Chalbury
By the two oaks les deus soeurs
By the King’s highway to Manytone
From thence to la Riygway to Uddinge
From thence to Wodekesworth
From thence to Horton through the middle of the village
Back to, back to the two oaks.
© Words Gill Horitz Music Helen Porter
By Hook or by Crook
Learn the trees’ tongues
By hook or by crook
Reach for the fruit
By hook or by crook
Hear the birds’ song
By hook or by crook
Find the best path
By hook or by crook
Say the plant’s name
By hook or by crook
Watch the seeds fall
By hook or by crook
Weight the wood’s charm
By hook or by crook
Lie in its shade
By hook or by crook
Before it’s too late
Before it’s too late
Hold the tree close
By hook or by crook
Earthed by its age
By hook or by crook
Hear the axe call
By hook or by crook
Louder than words
By hook or by crook
Tell the trees’ tale
Tell the trees’ tale
Tell the trees’ tale
By hook or by crook!
© Words Gill Horitz Music Helen Porter