Through the mountains paths where once where the warriors
over landscapes of green we set forth our feet
together marchin´ through boughs & stone,
the fulfilling scent of the damp woods
cleansing our inners with its nightly air

(It is now but two months after Samhuin…)

Gathered to find the Ancient Spirit
United to honour the Elderly Ones

On the top of this misty white mountain
Aye… our bones are now freezing cold
Let the ice burn our souls
And the flames... freeze our hearts

(for the Pagan circle of Fire must now be alit)

The Supreme Art shalt thus be summoned
As we feel the immortal pride
For to be one of the few chosen for enlightenment
is none too short of a privilege to hide…

(The Gleaming Black of the Moon…!)

And thus, in the shortest of all days
...we transcend the barbican
and without peril commune with
...the long deceased
like a dream so profoundly real
Breathing the Arcane air…
Behold, even the trees are dancing
(dancing) to the brave wind's epic song!

Once men of great deeds did gather
protected were they by ancestral deities
And now we welcome the arctic season
in our souls that since long turned to ice
and praise them in sheer rapture
a majestic winterspell under these cloudy
angst-driven skies

Chorus:
A Winter Solstice - when dark is bright
A Winter Solstice - marvel at its sight
A Winter Solstice - a Full Moon´s plight
A Winter Solstice - drown in the Night

(Down are the weak and feeble, afeared to Lethe…
So assume the port of Mars,
Exhale your sword for the Heathen Pride!)