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 goat-foot 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 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 thy 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.