Where nightshade black and mandrake grow,
And I have heard and I have seen
What righteous folk would fear to know!
For I have heard, at still midnight,
Upon the hilltop far, forlorn,
With note that echoed through the dark,
The winding of the heathen horn.
And I have seen the fire aglow,
And glinting from the magic sword,
And with the inner eye beheld,
The Horn`Ed One, the Sabbat's lord.
We drank the wine, and broke the bread,
And ate it in the Old One's name.
We linked our hands to make the ring,
And laughed and leaped the Sabbat game.
Oh, little do the townsfolk reck,
When dull they lie within their bed!
Beyond the streets, beneath the stars,
A merry round the witches tread!
And round and round the circle spun,
Until the gates swung wide ajar,
That bar the boundaries of the earth
From faery realms that shine afar.
Oh, I have been and I have seen
In magic worlds of Otherwhere.
For all this world may praise or blame,
For ban or blessing nought I care.
For I have been beyond the town,
Where meadowsweet and roses grow,
And there such music did I hear
As worldly-righteous never know.
This is the original version written by: Doreen Valiente.Author ">Posted by: Renee D Frey
HOW TO POST COPIES OF THESE ARTICLES FOR FREE ON YOUR WEBSITE
Except where otherwise noted, content on these sites:
Sycamore Meadow, Grimoire, and Social Media by Sycamore Meadow
and our contributing authors' articles at Sycamore Meadow is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at
http://www.sycamoremeadow.com/copyright.
Photos and our witch school are excluded
from this creative commons copyright.
~~