The maiden sitting by her pool
Was first to hear my pleas
As she looked into the water

She recited these words to me:

Walk not down that road

I can not tell you where it goes
Ask me no more questions
Some things you weren't meant to know


The mother toiling in the fields
Her apron full of seeds

As she dropped them to the earth
She recited these words to me:


Walk not down that road
I can not tell you where it goes
Ask me no more questions

Some things you weren't meant to know
The greater mysteries
Cannot be shown

Divided by three
The are the maiden, the mother, the crone


Finally I found the crone
Walking through the trees
She looked in my eyes

As she recited these words to me:

Go before the maiden

Get down on your knees
Should you win her favor
She may tell you what she sees

The harvest is reaped
Seeds are shown
Multiplied by three

She is the maiden, the mother, the crone