Wolcensmen - The Fyre-Bough lyrics

The greene bough, Glysteninge gold nowe, Have sweye by wyndes that rise, Beyonde the glare of Erthely eyes. The Ried-Fyre, Slytheringe heigher, Fede wel by lims of olde, Briht with a fyre-bough of gold. The wise tunge, Foretellinge deeds done, With words of wyrd, to know, Tydinges as trewe as scholde shew. And he wou'd know, The ryme and rede of a fo. And he would here, Here that are ever-nere. And he would fight, Never to cowe or to hyde. We brynge to minde the fyre-bough.