Viscid bargains have been struck

Wishes whispered and wicks cut

Fingers pricked and virtues plucked . . .

A light shines on Brocken!

Hills churn and valleys quake

Pathways swell and rivers gape

A flush burns in a bellowing sky . . .

A light shines on Brocken!

So come you hungry revelers, you deprived sybarites,

You coupled voyeurs, you labored nursemaids:

Sing again the ancient rhymes!

A light shines on Brocken!

Rings of fire, rings of flame

Hills of heather, fields of hay

Secrets dance and shadows bray

Hills of heather, fields of hay