The night is thick as soot,
The dark wind's at rest,
The fire's low in the grate.
Where he lies at Merlin's feet
The black dog stirs and moans,
Dreams trouble his sleep.
Will they search for the snake's egg?

For the purest of magic
Four things must be found:
Green cress from the river,
Gold herbs from the ground,
The top twig of the high oak,
And the snake's round, white egg.
Will they find the snake's egg?

Early, before white dawn
Disturbs the sleeping world,
Merlin is on his way
To the forbidden wood.
Glain, the old black dog
Steps where his master walked.
They go for the snake's egg.

Glain, are yours the sharp eyes
To see where the leaf turns?
To know that small, dark hole
Where the mouse's eye burns?
Can your ears pick up the sound
Of the mole's breath underground?
Can you find the snake's egg?

Merlin stands at the water's edge,
At the river's flood.
He stands in the salmon's scales,
His blood the salmon's blood.
He swims in the slanting stream,
In the white foam a whiter gleam.
He has pulled the green cresses.

Merlin stands in the wide field
Where the small creatures hide.
His long, straight limbs are lost.
He is changed to a spider.
He crawls on crooked legs,
His head moves from side to side.
He has cropped the gold herbs.

Merlin stands beneath the oak.
Feathers sprout from his arms,
His nose is an owl's hooked nose,
His voice one of night's alarms,
His eyes are the owl's round eyes,
Silent and soft he flies.
He has brought down the top twig.