'Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
Here's sticks for your fire,
Furze-twigs, and oak-twigs,
And beech-twigs, and briar!'
But when old Dame Hickory came for to see,
She found 'twas the voice of the False Faerie.

'Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
Here's meat for your broth,
Goose-flesh, and hare's flesh,
and pig's trotters both!'
But when old Dame Hickory came for to see,
She found 'twas the voice of the False Faerie.

'Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
Here's a wolf at your door,
His teeth grinning white,
And his tongue wagging sore!'
But when old Dame Hickory came for to see,
She found 'twas the voice of the False Faerie.

'Dame Hickory, Dame Hickory,
Here's buds for your tomb,
Bramble, and lavender,
and rosemary bloom!'
'Whsst!' sighs Dame Hickory, 'you False Faerie,
You cry like a wolf, you do, and trouble poor me.'