Iron for the birthday, bronze carried long,
Wood from the burning, stone out of song,
Fire from the candle ring, water from the thaw.
These six Signs the Circle at the last Signseeker's call.
Fire on the mountaintop will find the Harp of Gold,
Played to wake the Sleepers, the oldest of the old.
Power from the Green Witch that's been lost beneath the sea.
All these things shall find the light, silver on the tree.
When the Dark comes rising, Six shall turn it back.
Three from the Circle, three from the Track.
Wood, bronze, iron, water, fire, stone –
Five will return, and one go alone.
On the Day of the Dead, when the year, too, dies,
Find the youngest in the oldest hills the door where seabirds fly.
There fire will flee the Raven Boy and silver see the wind,
And the Light shall have the Harp of Gold in safety once again.
By the pleasant lake on Cadfan's Way, the ancient Sleepers lie,
Where the Grey King's shadows haunt the land, and wicked kestrels cry.
There one great Thing of Power by the Light shall sing and guide,
So the Sleepers might their long sleep end, and for the Light outride.
The Grail is first to lead them, over sea and under stone.
A Seeker soon to follow on a quest begun alone.
Ways of old to guide and guard, Paths to bring and send;
Circles both in Light and Dark from starting until end.
When Light back from the Lost Land's shores shall in the end return,
Six Sleepers all shall ride again, Six Signs shall brightly burn.
And where midsummer's tree grows up, all silver, fair, and tall,
Pendragon's sword against the Dark shall bring Dark's final fall.