WELCOME
To the Hold
For Flying South With Swallows

Wet gray hair from the hills
Will find the swallows gone
If you would go with them,
Rise before the sun
When the Corn Moon has waned;
Kneel in a mown field,
And write these words
On a yellow leaf
With an eagle's quill:

Swallow, I would fly
To the southern sea;
Swallow give me wings
To follow thee.

Stand, then, and cast the leaf
Into the air above your head;
If it blow north you shall remain;
If it blow east you shall be kept;
If it blow west you shall be bound;
If it blow south you shall be borne away.