There’s a tree by the well in the woods that’s covered in garlands, Clooties and ribbons that drift in the cool morning air, That’s where I met an old woman who came from a far land, Holding a flame o’er the well, and singing a prayer
Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing, Goddess of Spring, welcome again
She told me she’d been a prisoner trapped in a mountain, Taken by the Queen of Winter at Summer’s End, But in her prison she heard a spell the people were chanting, Three days of Summer, and snowdrops are flowering again
Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing, Goddess of Spring, welcome again
She spoke of the Cell of the Oak where a fire is still burning, Nineteen Priestesses tend the eternal flame, Oh but of you, my Lady, we are still learning, Brighid, Brigantia, the Goddess of Many Names
Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing, Goddess of Spring, welcome again
Then I caught her reflection in the mirrored well, And looked deep into her face, The old woman gone, a maiden now knelt in her place. From my pocket I pulled a ribbon, And in honour of her maidenhood, I tied it there to the tree by the well in the wood
Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing, Goddess of Spring, welcome again