[To a Bride on her Handfasting]
Hey the Gift, ho the Gift,
Hey the Gift on the living.
The fair young Mother stood in the moonlight,
It was the child Sun-King who was on her breast.
The flight of the eagle, the cast of the spear,
The spark is struck upon the stone.
To tell us the sun is reborn,
The Shining Child of the Land of Promise.
I see the hills, I see the strand,
I see the eagle mounting the sky.
I see faery hosts a-ridling,
Coming with speech and friendship to us.
