1. OPUS DRACONUM

Collaudentur veterrimi
Collaudentur dracones

In speculis sunt
In penetralibus tellis
Dracones stellantis noctis.

Quis capit vos mente,
Quis comprehendit vos mente?
Vos quibus sapientia oblita,
Opsque, vestrum numen,
Et ad creandum et ad consumendum;
Qui antea fuerunt ac erunt in perpetuum.

Elicio vos, me audite!
Evoco ex penetralibus tellis
Accipite haec sacra qui obeo vobis;
Accipatur veterrimis deis


2. FROM THE FOUNDATIONS OF CHAOS

The burning stars were falling
And the sky had turned red.
When the conjuration was complete,
The eldest force reappeared
To show us the Golden Age
And guide us into the new dawn.

The seven seals, that are broken,
Have released the hidden knowledge.
The serpent that is now released
Will reclaim this mortal world.
Through ancient wisdom and sacred bonds
Pandemonial chaos will be unleashed.

Appear before us, o serpent awakened,
Rise up from thy resting place,
Bless us with thy darkest grace
And release us from our earthly chains.

O ancient serpent, hear our calls,
Thou who hast the infinite knowledge:
From thy resting place in the bowels of the earth,
Reveal thy wisdom, the cosmic key
To the children of this sacred tribe,
That we may be unified with our destiny.

Release the spirits of war and plague,
The heralds of pestilence,
Unleash despair upon the human race
And let fire rain from the spheres.
Let the eldest force reappear
And embrace us with its knowledge.
Open the portal and bring forth the hordes
Of the hidden race.

From the foundations of chaos,
Awake the serpent from her slumber,
For when night appears in shades of red
And the stars have fallen down,
A sword will appear in the sky,
A signal for the hidden race,
That the boundaries have been broken
And the portal has been opened.

From the desolate places,
Within the caverns of the earth,
They arise and float
Like mist, vengefully.

After the completion of this conjuration
A terrible silence fills the wastes,
For the serpent will awake from her slumber
And claim her rightful throne once more.


3. THE CONJURATON COMPLETE

From the four points the horizon has set,
From every sacred place in the angle of this earth,
We have gathered in order to complete the circle,
To fulfil the knowledge for centuries hidden.
Behold, for the circle shall be complete again:
In this vast nocturnal, desert landscape,
We have congegrated to restore the ceremonial paths.

It is time, keepers of the knowledge for centuries hidden,
To unleash the forces which bide in the bowels of the earth
For we have congegrated on this sacred ritual ground
To release the elder gods from the sea below all seas.

[Preliminary Invocation of the Spirit of Cuthalu:]
Day of living, rising sun
Day of rising, of the slumbering ones
Day of fortune, grand delight
Day of splendour, brilliant night
Thee I summon, serpents of the deep
Thee I invoke, darkest forces of the deep
Come forth children of the underworld
Release thy vengeance upon mankind
Ancient gods, rise from thy sleep,
And lay thy wrath upon mankind
By the ever-shining star of the north.
Arise from thy slumber,
In the ice-cold waters of the sea
Below all seas.
Arise, from the caverns of the earth
Arise, from the desolate places
Arise, spread thy plague out over mankind
Arise, and bring despair upon mortal man
Arise, authors of pain, bringers of despair:
Inherit what belongs to thee!

As the conjuration was complete,
The serpents rose from their sleep
And appeared upon the mountains of dawn.
The winds of fire that have been unleashed
Are riding through the dismal skies
And leave us standing hypnotized.
Behold, for the circle is complete again.

From the heavens they set forth
Bringing destruction below
Completing their destined mission
And once again the hidden race
Shall rule upon the face of the earth
For it is foretold.


4. DEIRDRE OF THE SORROWS

'Twas amidst such festive cheer,
When Fedlime worth a noble peer
Attended in his vaulted hall
A banquet twixt the golden walls
And known the gleesome son of Dall
Danced the guests and bade the ball,
As harp he touched this sumptuous night,
Till from the lap his daughter cried.

In a richly attired chair sat the crowned guest of honour,
Conor Mac Nessa.
Among-st his retinue was the grey Cathbad,
A druid very much skilled in the lore of divination,
Whom he sent for and bade foretell the infant's prospects.
The welkin was cloudless and strewn with twinkling cressets
The Druid's lips began to tighten in his lenten face,
As upon the glaring stars he gazed intently.
O how unduly did the minstrel rejoice at a prosperous future;
Yet all hope was bound to relapse,
When the seer heaved one deep sigh,
And at length foretold the woe to come:

"As the moon gleams on the wave,
So shall be her sheen,
Bright and distant alike.
She shall wed a king, yet in her name
Shall bale come 'pon Ulster,
Ere Connacht shall make their strike."

The outcome compelled the fuddled guests
To suffocate the infant
Until the king restrained them from their attempts:
"Halt! By my troth, that doom I shall avert.
I decree that she will live her infancy hidden
From the sight of man and grow into my very consort,
Lest she be touched by the foul,
Covetous hands of some foreign king."

And so winters passed e'er in solitude;
Save syrens' descants the grove seemed mute,
In the heart of which she dwelt unseen,
As was, I trow, her wintry sheen.

In her eyes a sombrous gloom
Did gleam that wintry day,
When bare trees in silver wrought
Were but a shroud of grey.
A final glimpse she had besought
And ventured o'er the rampart
And came to see a raven reap his prey.

While deep crimson stains and imbues
The unbroken drape of unspurred white,
Which the dark of eb'ny wings grimly contrasts with,
Her heart was throbbing high at the sight.

The image had stirred long. One day,
After their fruitless hunt through the forest,
Naisi and his brethren, the sons of Usnach,
Left the forest's lap and strolled alongside the glade.
Out from the tower's window that made her visor,
Her voice beckoned thrice
And so having answered to her yearning call
And yearned themselves,
They released her to steal into the night together.

Naisi at the voyage:
"Fare thee well Ulster, that I may see you once more.
Already the tang of the sea I can respire;
We set sail to Caledon!
Our 'scape has startled the king and thwarted his plans,
Thence the vasts of the sea we cross
As in full career our ship reeves the wintry waters,
Driven by pursuit.
Naught can be seen beyond the sheets of rain.
O, have the afreets forgathered at our course
Or has some foul curse been lain upon us?...
Now our ship comes nigh succumbing
To the vagaries of the gales,
When fuscous forms of searing cliffs loom
From the hovering mists.
Will the shores bid us welcome,
In either soft or rugged embrace?
Landfall at last!...
A-nd so to Glen Etive we make our repair..."

In Glen Etive a living was built devoid
Of the king's wrath, save of his eyes.
No voice whatsoever was raised from Ulster
That reached their ears,
Until the paces of a rufous steed had
Swept their ways to the secret lodge:
On the steed sat Fergus, who had, in good faith himself,
Appeared on the stage again.

A pledge of peace he pleads that very morn
-In spite of all the qualms she utters so in vain.
This fatal rede had dreams put to scorn,
As the days of the Branch could live again.

Lo, nectar drops hover o'erhead
And on auburn wings glide yonder,
But don't these drops glow damask-red
In the sun on their path hither
Like grumes of blood?

How calm the sea was in that line,
So calm, o'er waves they skim,
Lightly 'pon light feathers swim
With sorrow's swan in frothing brine.

"...Ulster's cliffs were frowning ahead already.
Indeed, days of war were back again
And it would not last long, ere din smote their ears..."

Was it but geiss that bade him stay
With Baruch and not the twain convey
Safely to where the arms weren't there
Open to welcome, but forgèd to tear?

Or was it the nerves war has within
Though tailward turns war for those (that are) to win
Or ambitions tangled, like when one is raked
Within the garment the threads all break?

And so bale did brew,
As was thus foretold
By what the fixed stars for the Druid drew,
What's fixed to unfold.

The king did not welcome, yet sent a spy,
Whom they behind the window did descry
And, when dismantled, with the chess-king smite;
Struck blind -if he wasn't before- of sight.

Caught in the summoned slough of slime
-Like as before-, the gallant trine
Were shorn off their heads in the burden of time.
Deep crimson stained the unbroken drape of white

And into the sea,
Where she e'er was, will e'er be,
Deirdre did merge
With the glee of her dirge
Of deed and dream asunder.

The Two Trees
Perchance did blight after loss of life
Give rise to a yew 'pon either shrine
Their tops to join and to entwine
So as to bear the fruits of strife.