The Wild Hunt

In the dark of night the Hunt began
We called it forth, and forth it ran
From the black hills past the pilot mount
The Riders drove their charges round.

In the deeps of the sea the chargers sped
The souls before them scattered and fled
And everywhere they were pursued
By the Huntsman and his baying brood.

The horn from distant hillsides sang
Over the fens and through the bracken
And all who heard it shut their doors
Lest they be lured out on the moors.

The night drew back aghast and wept
To see so many oaths unkept
That all that's hidden should come to light
Sounding the watches of the night.

And as the hounds drew back the veil
A thousand hands in a thousand tills
Drew back before the dawning day
Over the hills and far away.