The secrets we hide in the night,
When dark was our destiny's pathway,
That we now bring forth into light.
Mysterious water and fire,
The earth and the wide ranging air,
By hidden quintessence we know them,
And will keep silent and dare.
The birth and rebirth of all nature,
The passing of winter and spring,
We share with the life universal,
Rejoice in a magical ring.
Four times in a year,
The Great Sabbat returns,
And the Witches are seen,
At Lammas and Candlemas dancing,
On May Eve and old Hallowe'en.
When the day-time and night-time are equal,
When sun is at greatest and least,
The four Lesser Sabbals are summoned,
And Witches gather in Feast.
Thirteen sliver moons in a year are,
Thirteen is the coven's array.
Thirteen times as Esbat make merry,
For each golden year and a day.
The power that was passed down the the age,
Each time between woman and man,
Each century onto the other,
Ere time and the ages begun.
When drawn is the magical circle,
By sword of athame of power,
Its compass between two worlds lies,
In the land of the shades of that hour.
This world has no right than to know it.
And world of beyond will tell naught.
The oldest Gods are invoke there,
The Great Work of magic is wrought.
For the two are magical pillars,
that stand at the gate of the shrine,
And two are the powers of nature,
The forms and the forces divine.
The dark and the light in succession,
The opposites each unto each.
Shown forth as a God and a Goddess:
Of this our ancestors teach.
By night he's the wild winds rider,
The Horn'd One, the Lord of the Shades.
By day his the King of the Woodland,
The dweller in green forest glades.
She is youthful or old as she pleases,
She sails the torn clouds in her bargue,
The bright sliver lady of midnight,
The crone who weaves spells in the dark.
The master and mistress of magic,
That dwell in the deeps of the mind,
Immortal and ever-renewing.
With power to free or to bind.
So drink the good wine of the Old Gods,
And Dance and make love in their praise.
Till Elphame's fair land shall receive us,
In peace at the end of our days.
And Do What You Will be the challenge,
So be it Love that harms none,
For this is the only commandment.
By Magic of old, be it done!
