The Forest is dark, dearie, The Forest is dark;The moment you think that you’re lost in the woods, then you are.Do not lose your way, dearie, Do not lose your way;The monsters are lurking not far from the path should you stray.Things aren’t what they seem, dearie, Things aren’t what they seem;Kind grins are bared teeth; Please don’t answer the calls from the trees.Do not pay them heed, dearie, Do not pay them heed;Hear footsteps behind you, beware but don’t fret, they’re just checking.The air is alive, dearie, The air is alive;To help and to hinder, but it’s how some learned to survive.These woods are too old, dearie, These woods are too old;Watch for crimson wraiths, keep your strength and wits close should you go.Deep in the Forest.

But first of all he is a woodsman, and you aren't a woodsman unless you have such a feeling for topography that you can look at the earth and see what it would look like without any woods or covering on it. It's something like the gift all men wish for when they or young-- or old-- of being able to look through a woman's clothes and see her body, possibly even a little of her character.

Old is the tree and the fruit good,Very old and thick the wood.Woodman, is your courage stout?Beware! the root is wrapped aboutYour mother's heart, your father's bones;And like the mandrake comes with groans.