We Wish You Health

Here's to John Barleycorn, and his nut brown bowl,

And poor old Elijah, may god rest his soul,

Here's to Ostara and the season of spring and the magic vernal vibration it brings,

Here's to the Sow in and opening our eyes, to Mother Nature's message prophetic and wise,

Here's to the Thing, that shall not be named,

Here's to Winstanley, and the diggers' untamed,

Here's to the shire of midsummerset, and dear Alfred Williams who we'll never forget,

Here's to Deiseil, we follow the sun, cos if you go widdershins, you'll be undone,

Here's to Windwhistle, and places of dread. Is there nothing to fear from the living or dead?

Here's to the people who's hearts that are yearning, whose toil and sacrifice, keeps the world turning.

Now boteler, come fill us a bowl of the best

And we hope that thy soul in heaven may rest

But if you do give us a bowl of the small,

Then down shall go boteler, bowl and all,

And we'll drink to you all

And your happiness and wealth

And we'll raise up our glass and say

We Wish You Health!