Post by themightyjenjen on Feb 10, 2005 20:21:02 GMT -5
By: Doreen Valentine
Hear now the words of the witches,
The secrets we hid in the night,
When dark was our destiny’s pathway. That we now bring forth into light.
Mysterious water and fire,
The earth and the wide-ranging air,
By hidden quintessence we know them,
And will keep silent and dare.
The birth and rebirth of all nature,
The passing of winter and spring,
We share with the life universal,
Rejoice in the magical ring.
Four times in the year the Great Sabbat returns,
And the Witches are seen,
At Lammas and Candlemas dancing,
On May Eve and old Hallow’een.
When day-time and night-time are equal,
When the sun is at greatest and least,
The four Lesser Sabbats are summoned,
Again witches gather in feast.
Thirteen silver moons in a year are,
Thirteen is the coven array,
Thirteen times at Esbat make merry,
For each golden year and day.
The power was passed down the ages,
Each time between woman and man,
Each time and the ages began.
When drawn is the magical circle,
By sword or athame or power,
Its compass between the two worlds lies,
In land of shades for that hour.
The world has no right then to know it,
And [the] world beyond will tell naught,
The oldest of the Gods are invoked there,
The Great Work of magic is wrought.
For two are the mystical pillars,
That stand at the gate of the shrine,
And two are the powers of nature,
The forms and forces divine.
The dark and the light in succession,
The opposites each unto each,
shown forth as a God and Goddess,
Of this did our ancestors teach.
By night he’s the wild wind’s rider,
the Horn’d one, the Lord of the Shades,
By day he’s the Kind of the woodland
The dweller in green forest glades.
She is youthful or old as she pleases,
she sails the torn clouds in her barque,
the bright and silver lady of midnight,
the crone who weaves spells in the dark.
Master and mistress of magic,
they dwell in the deeps of the minds,
Immortal, and ever renewing,
with power to free or to bind.
So drink the good wine to the old gods,
and dance and make love in their praise,
‘til Elphames fair land shall receive us,
In peace at the end of our days.
And do what you will be the challenge,
so be it in love that harms none,
For this is the only commandment,
By magic of old , be it done.
Eight word of the Witches Creed fufill:
If it harms none, do what you will!
Hear now the words of the witches,
The secrets we hid in the night,
When dark was our destiny’s pathway. That we now bring forth into light.
Mysterious water and fire,
The earth and the wide-ranging air,
By hidden quintessence we know them,
And will keep silent and dare.
The birth and rebirth of all nature,
The passing of winter and spring,
We share with the life universal,
Rejoice in the magical ring.
Four times in the year the Great Sabbat returns,
And the Witches are seen,
At Lammas and Candlemas dancing,
On May Eve and old Hallow’een.
When day-time and night-time are equal,
When the sun is at greatest and least,
The four Lesser Sabbats are summoned,
Again witches gather in feast.
Thirteen silver moons in a year are,
Thirteen is the coven array,
Thirteen times at Esbat make merry,
For each golden year and day.
The power was passed down the ages,
Each time between woman and man,
Each time and the ages began.
When drawn is the magical circle,
By sword or athame or power,
Its compass between the two worlds lies,
In land of shades for that hour.
The world has no right then to know it,
And [the] world beyond will tell naught,
The oldest of the Gods are invoked there,
The Great Work of magic is wrought.
For two are the mystical pillars,
That stand at the gate of the shrine,
And two are the powers of nature,
The forms and forces divine.
The dark and the light in succession,
The opposites each unto each,
shown forth as a God and Goddess,
Of this did our ancestors teach.
By night he’s the wild wind’s rider,
the Horn’d one, the Lord of the Shades,
By day he’s the Kind of the woodland
The dweller in green forest glades.
She is youthful or old as she pleases,
she sails the torn clouds in her barque,
the bright and silver lady of midnight,
the crone who weaves spells in the dark.
Master and mistress of magic,
they dwell in the deeps of the minds,
Immortal, and ever renewing,
with power to free or to bind.
So drink the good wine to the old gods,
and dance and make love in their praise,
‘til Elphames fair land shall receive us,
In peace at the end of our days.
And do what you will be the challenge,
so be it in love that harms none,
For this is the only commandment,
By magic of old , be it done.
Eight word of the Witches Creed fufill:
If it harms none, do what you will!