Invocation to Nott
Hail to Nott, Old Woman of the Night,The hem of your black robe twinklesWith the multitudinous stars as you go,And we watch, and marvel at the MysteriesYou flaunt each night in your passing.Hail, Hrimfaxi’s rider, dewdrops sparklingOn your dark bridle, nourishing the Earth.
Hag of the Night, Sacred Elder,Silver-haired like the clouds across the Moon,Mother of Day, Mother of Earth,Mother of the Sea-Lover whose ships breast the horizon,Lover of Jotun, Alf, and Van, and anyWhose upturned face in the moonlightYou find lovely in your old, old eyes.
Bless us, Nott, with fine sleepingAnd may your dark horse ride gently in our dreams.