Song of the Cailleach Bheur

What’s all this merriment and cheer?
Is it not winter that you fear?

I am the old veiled one of the wood,
And my appearance shall do you no good.

My realm is cold, dead, and dark.
The ground is barren and the trees are stark.

My fierce white hounds, with eyes of red
Howl through the night, a paean to the dead.

I strike my blackthorn upon the ground!
Now nothing green or living shall be found.

I am the Cailleach Bheur, and now is my reign.
I shall not leave you until next Beltaine.*