Mysterious Water and Fire, the Earth and the wide-ranging Air, 
By hidden Quintessence we know Them, and we 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 Magickal Ring.  

Four times in a year the Great Sabbat, returns, and the Witches are seen, 
At Lammas and Candelas dancing, on May Eve and old Hallowe'en.  

When daytime and nightime are equal, when 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 Covens array, 
Thirteen times at Esbat make merry, for each golden year and a day.  

The power has passed down the ages, each time between woman and man, 
Each century unto the other, ere times and the ages began.  

When drawn is the Magickal circle, by sword or athame of power, 
Its compass between two worlds lies, in the land of shades of that hour.  

Our world has no right to know it, and the world beyond will tell naught, 
The oldest of Gods are invoking there, the great work of Magick 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 the forces divine.