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