The Pipes of Mabon, singing, singing,
Filling the air with the Summer’s song
The son of Modron, dancing, dancing
Through woven ways all the Summer long.
The Birds of Rhiannon, flying, flying,
Entwining their song with the pipes in the air,
The Cup of Rosmerta, brimming, brimming,
Through long days of sunlight and twilight fair.
Festivall, festivall, they pronounce for these days
For the sweetness of Summer enchantment decree;
On Midsummer mornings when the Piper is calling
It’s there with the wild gods that we wish to be.