By the way of the little wood Where once the faerie hill fort stood Then on the hip of the stream that winds And through the mist of the root that binds By the pool, by the stone Where the wild stag comes alone In the black the raven's wing In the lays the salmons sing Beneath the blackthorn's groaning bough Upon the hill's moon crusted brow And with the owl's swift decree Then it is I'll come to thee When all is not as it would seem And the wind speaks through a dream And the fire is in the sea Then it is I'll come to thee Not by storm nor by flame Yet by the way the darkness came... In the dawning's star pale light In the need fire's embers bright When the earth grip has your bones And the wind your dying moans Then it is I shall appear Like the shadows creeping near Dreaming seeded in my womb Flaming arrows from my loom When the moon cup crowns the hill And the reeds are blowing still Wait by the magick apple tree There it is I'll come to thee When all is not as it has been And the truth is as the dream When the sword at last is free Then it is I'll come to thee Not by storm, nor by flame Yet by the way the darkness came