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