The Wild Hunt
 

Ride, Hunter, ride
Ride tall on your milk white steed 
The spirit hounds at your side
Baying in their bloodlust greed

The moon is full tonight
Soft light flows through the trees
The ages call with might
To raise the hunt wild and free

Beware, oh traveler on the road
To hear the baying of the hounds
It makes your blood run cold
And shivers your heart to hear the sound

The pale white dogs fill the sky
Their master follows closely
His antlered head held so high
On his steed so ghostly

Through the valleys and the fens
The wild hunt makes it's way
Until dawn's light on horizon thins
To greet Midwinter's Day

Copyright 2001 by Caitlin McKnelly

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