The Witching Hour | Fantasy Bard Song

A haunting medieval fantasy folk song about witches stirring beneath the moon, midnight bells, black cats, broomsticks, and the old warnings whispered after dark. Perfect for fans of Dungeons & Dragons, tabletop RPGs, dark folk, Celtic fantasy music, medieval bard songs, witchy music, and Halloween fantasy. Lyrics: When candle flames burn pale and low, And cold winds through the chimney blow, When dogs lie still and ravens cry, And clouds draw back from moonlit sky, Then bar the door and tend the fire, Speak no name nor heart’s desire, For through the wood and round the tower, The witches wake at the witching hour. Hark, the bell—one, two, three, Witches wander wild and free, Broom and briar, root and flower, All have strength at the witching hour. Hide thy candle, quench thy light, Keep thee close within this night, For moon and shadow hold their power At the coming of the witching hour. From crooked cot and hollow tree, From hill and heath and blackened lea, With broom in hand and cloaks drawn tight, The witches ride beneath the night. O’er field and fen their shadows flee, Above the sleeping hedge and tree, Till round the ancient oak they meet, Where neither grass nor flower grows sweet. Hark, the bell—one, two, three, Witches wander wild and free, Broom and briar, root and flower, All have strength at the witching hour. Hide thy candle, quench thy light, Keep thee close within this night, For moon and shadow hold their power At the coming of the witching hour. The iron pot hangs o’er the flame, And each one speaks another’s name, With mandrake root and raven bone, And herbs where no good seed is sown. They turn the brew and chant it round, While bare feet tread the moonlit ground, The old trees bend, the night winds sour, And dark things stir at the witching hour. If from the wood thou hear thy name, Answer not, whate’er the claim. If thrice there comes a knock at door, Let it knock—and speak no more. If on thy sill a black cat stays, Look not long into its gaze. And shouldst thou hear a woman near... “The witching hour is here.” There lived a lad who mocked the tale, Who feared no witch nor midnight gale, He saw a lantern past the wall, And followed when he heard it call. At dawn they found his cloak alone, Beside the old and weathered stone, And still, when midnight bells do sound, His wandering light goes round and round. Hark, the bell—one, two, three, Now the witches cross the lea, Broom and briar, root and flower, All bow down to the witching hour. Hide thy candle, quench thy light, Pray thee well this moonlit night, For witch and shadow hold their power At the coming of the witching hour. So bar the door and bank the fire, Speak no name nor heart’s desire, And lie thee still till morning flower... For ours is the witching hour. #TheWitchingHour #HalloweenMusic #FantasyMusic #DarkFolk #CelticMusic #BardSong #DnDMusic #TabletopRPG #TabletopTunes