I call on earth to binding my spell. Airspeed is travel well, brightest fire shall it glow, deep as waters tight, so flow. Cald the elements, forefought, blessed be. The thusets which. She passes trough the village street, as evening shadows fall, the formal cleanse, the winter sky, the trees are bare and tall. What is the secret that their share, shatter in moon and tree, and little laughing, breath that makes the dead leaves dance with glee? They know their kin, the old cries, he's greeting out to her. Now the last house and gardens past, the dawn's right rises bare. A climbing moonlight path she sees, that was a troughed road. Air consequences, room or norm and proud, or downward ever strode. Glee? Today in your honouring, during valiantium, caught, mother of modern pagan witchcraft. And now from the cup I drink to the old ones, every means of our country.