Lady, gracious and divine,
Author of miracles, magic, wine:
From whose hand the breath of Spring
The robin's song sets forth to wing.
Mother, greatest One of all,
Inventor of the nightbird's call,
From whose hand the flowers bloom,
Makes the wool to race the loom.
Mother, warmest is Thy glory,
Speak to us the unending story,
Consoler of the chosen few,
I dedicate my life to you.
Goddess of the mind and soul,
Exalted One in days of olde,
Here, anew, we pray to Thee
And sing Thy praise eternally.
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