The Wyrd of the White Lady-the hunter's moon- O. R. Melling

Be fleet of foot,
O fair Hunted One,
From the dark of the shadow
Across the clear sun.

Like a deer on the plain,
Like a trout in the stream,
Take flight from life's bane,
To the Land of the Dream.

Come to the Sidhe-mound under the hill,
Come to the Country ruled by my will.