By the flame that burneth bright,
O’ Horned One.
We call thy name into the night,
O’ Ancient One.

The we invoke, by the moonless sea,
By standing stone and twisted tree.
Thee we invoke where gather thine own,
By the nameless shrine, forgotten and alone.

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 hushed 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 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 Summerland’s height,
We hear the hoofs on the wind of the night.
As black tree branches shake and sigh,
By joy and terror we know thee nigh.

We speak the spell thy power unlocks,
At Solstices, Sabbats, and the Equinox.