Pagan version by Yvonne Aburrow, 2022
The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
Chorus: O, the rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The bright fire on the hilltop
At the turning of the year.
The holly bears a blossom
As white as lily flower
And the sun breaks through the dolmen
At the magic golden hour.
The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood
And the wren waits in the thicket,
For the trees to be in bud.
The holly bears a prickle
As sharp as any thorn
And the frost lies on the meadow
All on the solstice morn.
The holly bears a bark
As smooth as any stone
And the sun returns from the southern sky
When the solstice time is done.
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