There are few places,
Sweet Sumner Maiden,
Where I Feel you half as much.

Soft light of fading dusk,
Reflecting off gentle waves,
Of the deep dark well of the lake.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The gentle waves rippling,
Like your hair in a gentle breeze.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
The fiery sunset blazing,
Like the gold and fire of your hair.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The deep water, black and quiet,
Like the dark depths of your secrets.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
The gentle breeze across water,
Your soft breath on my skin.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
The waters so gentle I see a sword,
Raised up by your hand, O Lady of the Lake.

I call to you, Sweet Maiden,
Send your wind,
Rising across the water,
A soft breeze,
A mighty gale,
Raise the wind,
My sweet Nimue,
Lady of the Lake,
Corn Maiden,
Bringer of Wind,
Consuming fire,
The wind across your lake,
The power of your joy,
The power of your anger.

I call to you, Sweet Nimue,
Sweet Maiden,
My Lady of the Lake.