In his epic poem on the mighty oak, the great Roman poet Quercus Deciduous, wrote:

A giant oak, his branches spread
Beholds the scene with quiet pride
The young man to be shortly bled
That man’s great love be shone
The Druid in his cloak of white
So loving of the mistletoe
Of which the gods take all delight
Prepares the altar stone
The sacrifice stands quiet, near
Hands bound, the mistletoe is blessed
The Druid’s chant rings in his ear
The blade all sins atone
The mistletoe accepts the blood
The sacrifice is placed with joy
Into the bog, deep in the mud
To sleep in peace, alone
The gods are satisfied, they share
Their joy with countless forest oaks
Who tend the mistletoe they bear
Through which the gods make known
Their love for mankind and to show
Their keeping whole the people who
Revere the oak and mistletoe
And sacrifice condone
For only sacrifice reveals
The hunger of the human soul
For that which only loving heals
And born in mind and bone

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