English Fire Song Lyrics

Seven brides serve me seven sins
Seven seas writhe for me
From Orient gates to R'lyeh
Abydos to Thessaly
And sirens sing from stern
But now I cease to play
For I yearn to return
To woodland ferns
Where Herne and his wild huntress lay!

Now the tidal are turning
Spurning the darkness
The great purgation's of distinguished tours
Are but stills in time
To the thrill that I'm
Once more
Heading to the bedding
Of her English shores

The wind bickered in Satanic mill sails
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in panic to vales
When Brigantia spoke her soul to me