When dar was our destiney's pathaway, that now we 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 the magickal ring.
Four times in the year the Great Sabbat returns, and the Witches are seen,
and Lammas and Candlemas dancing on May Eve and old Halloween.
When day-time and night-time are equal When sun is at greatest and least,
the four Lesser Sabbats are summoned and Witches gather in feast.
Thirteen silver moons in year are thirteen is the Coven's array,
thirteen times is Esbat make Merry For each golden year and day.
The power that was passed down the age each time between woman and man,
Each century unto the other Eve time and the ages began.
When drawn is the Magickal Circle by sword of athame of power,
it's compass between two worlds lies in land of the shades for that hour.
This world has no right then to know it and world of beyond will tell naight,
the oldest of Gods are invoked there the great work of Magickis wrought.
For the two are mystical 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 sucession the oppsites each unto each,
shown forth as God and Goddess of this our ancestors teach.
By night he's the wild wind's rider the Horn'd One, the Lord of the Shades,
By day he's the King of the Woodland the dweller in green forest glades.
She is youthful or old as she pleases she sail the torn clouds in her barque,
the bright silver Lady of the Midnight the crone who weaves spells in the dark.
The master and the Mistress of Magick that dwell in the deeps of the mind,
Immortal and ever-renewing with power to free or to bind.
So drink good wine to the Old Gods and dance and make love in thier praise,
till Elphame's fair land shall recieve us in peace at the end of our days.
And do what ye will be the challenge So be it Love that harms none,
For this is the only Commandent By Magick of the old, Be it Done!