In the guise of cool midnight
We roam the hills in robes.
Season of the witch is near,
Celebrate among the dead.
Hallowtide!
If the moon be only light
To will our magic rite,
Gather every witch and we will
Go upon the highest hill.
Hallowtide!
Father of death, Father of night,
Father of birth, Father of light,
Cernunnos, come by flame, come by fire,
Come now whom we desire......
Cernunnos.
