The Druids thought the mistletoe
Would stop the meanest witches,
Cure the most severe disease,
Keep cradles safe from switches.
Enemies laid down their arms
Beneath its pungent spell.
For one whole day they could not fight,
Though hatred fire the will.
In later centuries it served
To force a willing kiss.
For those reluctant on their own
It was the door to bliss.
Today it is a symbol of
The mystic powers of Earth,
For when the sun's about to die
In love we find rebirth.