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I travelled
once a pleasant road where orange lilies grew,
And o’er a rugged hill I strode with purple heather blue,
Then up a mountain black I went in darkness was my lot,
Yet brightly saw from the descent but I won’t tell you what.
Then hail the bright and solemn
rite
Of our mysterious seven,
And hail the Knight who saw the light
Of mystical eleven.
Yet ere reached the mountain
top, travelled round and round,
And tho’ I was supported up, I sank upon the ground,
And hands unseen refreshments brought, that cup can’t be forgot,
And words of wisdom I was taught but I won’t tell you what.
Then hail the bright and solemn
rite
Of our mysterious seven,
And hail the Knight who saw the light
Of mystical eleven.
Midst fiery snakes and thunder
shocks I passed the desert sand,
Until I reached the rugged rocks – then met a friendly hand,
And types of death were round me thrown, expressive of our lot,
And mystic lights I then were shown but I won’t tell you what.
Then hail the bright and solemn
rite
Of our mysterious seven,
And hail the Knight who saw the light
Of mystical eleven.
If you would wish to be advanced,
or if you wish to rise,
If you would have your work enhanced, or if you wish to be wise,
If you would see our mystic light – if you will take our vow,
And be made a true Black Knight, then I will tell you how.
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