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Three things
there be that prosper up apace
And flourish whilst
they grow asunder far;
But on a day, they meet all in
one place,
And when they meet they one another mar:
And they be these -the wood, the weed, the wag.
The
wood is that which makes the gallows tree;
The weed
is that which strings the hangman's bag;
The wag, my
pretty knave, betokeneth thee.
Mark well, dear boy,
whilst these assemble not,
Green springs the tree,
hemp grows, the wag is wild;
But when they meet, it
makes the timber rot,
It frets the halter, and it
chokes the child.
Then bless thee, and beware, and
let us pray
We part not with thee at this meeting
day.
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