A palmful for thine age,
A palmful for thy growth,
A palmful for thy throat,
A flood for thy speech.
For thy share of the dainty,
Crowdie and kail;
For thy share of the taking,
Honey and warm milk.
For thy share of the supping,
Whisked whey and cheese;
For thy share of the spoil,
With bow and with spear.
For thy share of the preparation,
The yellow eggs of Eostre;
For thy share of the treat,
The orange gourds of Samhain.
For thy share of the feast,
With gifts and with tribute;
For thy share of the treasure,
With magic and with love.
For thy share of the chase,
Up the face of Bryn Aryen;
For thy share of the hunting,
And the mustering of the hosts.
For thy share of palaces,
In the courts of kings;
For thy share of the Summerland,
In the courts of the Gods.
The part of thee that does not grow at dawn,
May it grow at eventide;
The part of thee that does not grow at night,
May it grow at ridge of mid-day.
The three palmfuls,
Of the three Queens,
To preserve thee,
From every envy,
Evil eye and death;
The palmful of the Mother of Love,
The palmful of the Maiden of Beauty,
The palmful of the Crone of Wisdom,
Triad
Of Magic.
