wilight is over, and the moon of night
Draws to it’s Zenith, as beyond the stream
Dance the Wild Witches, fair as a dream
In a garden, naked in Diana’s sight,
Flaming Censers on the sweet altar, light
Gleams on the water, drifting vapours teem,
Laughter and swaying white shoulders gleam.
Oh joy and wonder at their lovely sight.

Traditional english folk song