Thee we invoke, by the moon-led sea,
By the standing stone and the twisted tree. Thee we invoke where gather
thine own,
By the nameless shrine forgotten and lone. Come where the round of the
dance is trod, Horn and hoof of the goatfoot God!
By moonlit meadow, on dusky hill,
When the haunted wood is bushed and still, Come to the charm of the
chanted prayer, As the moon bewitches the midnight air.
Evoke thy powers, that potent bide
In the shining stream and the secret tide. In fiery flame by starlight
pale,
In shadowy host that rides the gale,
And by the fern-brakes fairy- haunted
Of forests wild and woods enchanted.
Come! Come!
To the heart beats drum!
Come to us who gather below
When the broad white moon is climbing slow Through the stars to the
heaven's height We hear the hoofs on the wind of night!
As black tree branches shake and sigh,
By joy and terror we know thee nigh.
We speak the spell thy power unlocks
At Solstice, Sabbat and equinox.
By the flame that burneth bright,
O' Horned One!
We call thy name into the night,
O' Ancient One!