She whose Power is in the White and Waxing Moon.
Hail to Thee by the Name which I have dreamt in the Empyrean Sabbat
Thine is the gown of purity, woven by the hands of the faerie-host
and sown by the touch of Elphame’s child.
Thy raiment is bejewell’d with the dew-pearl’d tears of angels;
To Thy sides do sweep two mighty, shimmering fishes’ tails,
with which Thou dost swim against all tides
and indwell the Nine Waters of the Silver Moon
With the First Utterance of Thy Mouth the First Star burneth within Itself
I know Thee and I know Thy Name. I know Thy Name and I know the
Names of Thy Name. The First Utterance of Thy Lips is upon
my Lips; the First Star burneth at the Heart of Our Circle.
Upon Thine altar we offer seven tokens of initiation:
A silver coin for the circle’s entrance,
A prayer for light in the hours of our darkness,
A white tallow candle – lit to awaken the dreaming dead,
A knotted cord to remember the teachings,
A bow of humility to our ancestral kindred,
A fivefold hand-sign bestowing wisdom,
And a single kiss where Thy step hath passed between our head and heels.
Fallen Queen of Heaven,
Wake this Land of Waste
Excerpts from The Dragon Book of Essex and Azoetia © Andrew Chumbley
Via Combusta 
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