Three thinges there bee that prosper up apace
And flourish, whilest they growe a sunder farr,
But on a day, they meet all in one place,
And when they meet, they one an other marr;

And they bee theise, the wood, the weede, the wagg.
The wood is that, which makes the Gallow tree,
The weed is that, which strings the Hangmans bagg,
The wagg my pritty knave betokeneth thee.

Mark well deare boy whilest theise assemble not,
Green springs the tree, hempe growes, the wagg is wilde,
But when they meet, it makes the timber rott,
It frets the halter, and it choakes the child.

Then bless thee, and beware, and lett us praye.
Wee part not with thee at this meeting day.