“She is the Mother,
She laces his vest, she sets his sword,
She kisses him goodbye, knowing his fate.
“She is the Lover,
She laces his breast, she sets his flail,
She kisses him goodbye, closing the door.
“She is the Crone,
Old and gray, She watches as he fades away,
She sees his end, and cries for joy,
For her soon-to-be-born baby boy.”
“He is the Hunter,
He rides to battle, he rides to slay,
He knows the part the He must play,
It happens today.”
“He is the Prey,
He rides to death, He feeds the whole,
He feeds us til the coming Spring,
He is every living thing.”
“He is the Horned One,
The Grape and Grain, the setting sun,
He is the babe born on the morrow,
Bringing an end to our deepest sorrow
For he is hope and life and cheer.”
“And so today we gather here,
To sing your praise, just like they did in olden days,
We call and ask for one more night
To pass until we see the light
Return to us once more.
It is the promise of magickal lore.”
“Hail to thee, Oh Holly King,
Of your death we proudly sing,
And Hail to Thee, Oh Oaken One,
You come to us as Rising Sun!
“And so the Wheel Turns on and on.
What was once is dead and gone.
Bless us this day and evermore,
And take us to the sunny shore of Time
Where all is love and light
And we are free of the longest night!”