Mistletoe Bough

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[Verse]
                           Bb
The mistletoe bough in the olden 
time
    C                  Am
Was honoured in many a sacred rhyme
   Dm                      C  
By bards and by singers of high 
    G
degree
     Bb           C            Am
When cut from its place on the 
      Dm
old oak tree
   F           C     Dm          
By white-robed Druid with golden 
C
knife
         Dm           C       Bb 
For they thought it a magical 
     Am
Tree of Life
    Dm                 C    G
And many a promise and holy vow
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          Bb       C            
They were solemnly sworn on the 
Am        Dm
mistletoe bough

[Verse]
The mistletoe bough in the 
Bb
Norseman's lay
     C                    Am
Told ever of horrors, and love's 
dismay
         Dm                 
When the old blind god, by a 
 C        G
sportive blow
     Bb          C         Am    
Laid Balder, the beautiful sun 
   Dm
god, low
      F        C           
Thenceforth it was deemed an 
  Dm       C
accursed thing
    Dm          C            Bb  
But love out of sorrow could 
    Am
victory bring
        Dm                 C       
And the tears of Freja are shining 
G
now
         Bb      C           
Like the orient, pearls on the 
  Am        Dm
mistletoe bough

[Verse]
                           Bb
The mistletoe bough on the festive 
throng
      C                   Am
Looks down amid echoes of mirthful 
song
      Dm                         C
Where hearts they make music, as 
           G
old friends meet
      Bb              C           
Whose pulse keeps the time to the 
Am       Dm
dancer's feet
    F             C        Dm
And eyes they are brighter with 
            C
looks of love
     Dm      C           Bb       
Than gems outshining the lamps up 
 Am
above
    Dm              C          G
And who is she that will not allow
  Bb                  C         
A kiss that's claimed under the 
Am        Dm
mistletoe bough?

[Verse]
N.C.
From the regions of the east
N.C.
There came a strong and handsome 
beast
N.C.
Slow indeed his paces are
N.C.
None with donkey can compare
N.C.
For the load that he will bear
N.C.
Hail, Sir Donkey, hail