Samhain Chant
by Doreen Valiente

Fire red, summer's dead, Yet shall it return.
Clear and bright in the night, Burn, fire, burn!

Dance the ring, luck to bring, When the year's aturning.
Chant the rhyme at Hallows time, When the fire's burning.

Fire glow, vision show, Of the heart's desire,
When the spell's chanted well Of the witching fire.

Dance the ring, luck to bring, When the year's aturning.
Chant the rhyme at Hallows time, When the fire's burning.

Fire spark, when nights are dark, Makes our winter's mirth.
Red leaves fall, earth takes all, brings them to rebirth.

Dance the ring, luck to bring, When the year's aturning.
Chant the rhyme at Hallows time, When the fire's burning.

Fire fair, earth and air, And the heaven's rain,
And blessed be, and so may we, At Hallows tide again.

Dance the ring, luck to bring, When the year's aturning.
Chant the rhyme at Hallows time, When the fire's burning.

Beltaine
The following is a poem translated out of the Gaelic by the Dal Riadh Celtic Trust

May, clad in cloth of gold, cometh this way;
The fluting of the blackbirds heralds the day.

The dust colored cuckoo cries welcome O Queen!
For winter has vanished, the thickets are green.

Soon the trampling of cattle where river runs low!
The long hair of the heather, the canna like snow.

Wild waters are sleeping, foam of blossom is here;
Peace, save the panic in the heart of the deer.

The wild bee is busy, the ant honey spills,
The wandering kind are abroad on the hills.

The harp of the forest sounds low, sounds sweet;
Soft bloom on the heights; on the loch, haze of heat.

The waterfall dreams; snipe, corncakes, drum,
By the pool where the talk of the rushes is come.

The swallow is swooping; song swings from each brae;
Rich harvest of mast falls; the swamp shimmers gay.

Happy the heart of man, eager each maid;
Lovely the forest, the wild plane, the green glade.

Truly winter is gone, come the time of delight,
The summer truce joyous, May, blossom-white.

In the heart of the meadows the lapwings are quiet;
A winding stream makes drowsy riot.

Racehorses, sail, run, rejoice and be bold!
See the shaft of the sun makes the water-flag gold.

Loud, clear the blackcap; the lark trills his voice
Hail May of delicate colors 'tis May Day - rejoice!

A Fairy Went A-Marketing
by Rose Fyleman

A Fairy went a marketing, she bought a little fish;
She put it a crystal bowl upon a golden dish.
An hour she sat in wonderment and watched its silver gleam,
And then she gently took it up and slipped it in a stream.

A fairy went a marketing, she bought a colored bird;
It sang the sweetest, shrillest song that ever she had heard.
She sat beside the painted cage and listened half the day.
And then she opened wide the door and let it fly away.

A fairy went a marketing, she bought a winter gown
All stitched about with gossamer and lined with thistledown.
She wore it all afternoon with prancing and delight,
then gave it to a little frog to keep him warm at night.

A fairy went a-marketing, she bought a gentle mouse
To take her tiny messages, and keep her tiny house.
All day she kept its busy feet pit patting to and fro,
And then she kissed its silken ears, thanked it, and let it go.

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