“Nine Helpers’ Galesong”

May all weeds rooted now spring forth
Seas slip away, all salt water
When I blow this sickness from you

If bad water cometh from the east flying
Or if any from the north cometh
Or from the west over folks’ heads

Crist stood over illness of any kind,
But I alone know the ea running,
Where the nine snakes behold

Brown and berrywine devils
With worm devil, water devil
Thorn devil, thistle devil
With ice devil
And that olden bundle devil too

Now may the nine Helpers fight with the nine devils
With nine sicknesses, with nine illnesses
With red and running devils
With white and whale-blue
Yellow and green devils
With black and midnight blue

Stand she against bodily ache and bad water
She may with thirty as well as three
Against fiendish hands, against wanton wiles
Against all bewitching kinds of ghosts

A mighty two
Their leaves shaped by Wise Lord
Holy in heaven, where He hanged
Sent them forth into the worlds
Hear and listen to the answers

A snake came sneaking though slay he none
Then One-Eyed Wanderer took nine twigs
And slapped the adder, so that he into nine bits flew
And there brought about, apple and adder
That he never would in houses dwell

Unforget
What you unfolded
What you brought about
That should you brew the Blooms for one who is ill
They will not die

This one, no… wait… this one
Yes, this is that Healer called Crab Apple
A ghost sailed forth over sea ridges
To still the angry brine

These nine may with nine devils

This is that Helper that with the worm fought
That may with bad water and airborne illness
And she may with that loathsome thing what haunteth the land

Now flee! Snakebite’s Bane, that less in the great
That great in the less, until their ship comes in

She is the root that took to stone
Stand she against bad water, dancing off bodily ache
She is called Nettles, withstand she bad water
Wrecketh she wrath, warpeth out bad water

You withstood, you pushed back
So you could buck against bad water
Hold breath against illness
And scare off horrors hexing households

And you, Mother of Leaves
Open wide and mighty on hillside eastern, drinking dawn's hues daily
Over you workers carried crates
Over you rode queer queens
Over you wept women on their wedding days
And steers stood over you, chewing their cud too

Not enough people understand this