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Now at the crown of the year
the decadent days of October
I come to thee without fear
Pious chaste and sober

Hear me Lord of the Stars!
for thee I've worshipped ever
with stains and sorrows and scars
with joyful endeavour

Hear me Lord of the Stars!
Hear me O lily-white goat!
Hear me Mighty Pan!
I come to Thee come to Thee crying

Here in the dusty air
I build thee a shrine of yew
All green is the garland I wear
but I feed it with blood for dew!

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