Hark child of Albion
The blood of the ancestors throbs in your veins
Each pulse is a memory
Of a time we cannot regain

Each of your sinews, a river
Your toes are your roots to the land
With your fingers you wrought the future
The Earth lives or dies by your hand

We are made of the stuff of the Earth
She has given you life
The spirit of the land is within you
The Maiden, The Crone and The Wife

This sacred isle of Albion
This cauldron of the Goddess
Has been the home of her children
Since time we cannot guess

The warriors that defend her shores
The farmers who tend the land
The Mothers who raise the children
Do her bidding at her command

The spirits of this land
Were old in ancient days
They were here in time before time
And are here now, wherever sunlight plays

And in the dim of evening
When Lugh’s sun has gone
The spirits of the land still walk
Twixt the dusk and dawn

In every tree in every leaf
In valley and high on hill
The shadow folk of time gone by
Walk the veil still

So hark child of Albion
To the voices in the wind
No nameless strangers these
For them we sing the Awen