Written by: Margaret Foster

Young Mirran lived in Calder wood
all of her spells were for the good
in helping out where e’er she could
But Mirran had a plan
And oft times she would sit and brood
about a mortal man

‘It’s not allowed,’ the elves all cried
‘Against our law, and woe betide
a witch who’d wish to be the bride
of mortal human men.
The bell will ring like you have died
and what will you do then?’

Her case was heard and tossed about
The coven’s vote... to cast her out,
No more a welcome here about
Bold Mirran must be gone.
‘Close the book,’ went up the shout
and so the deed was done

‘We must ring the bell, close the book,
 quench the candle,’ declared the rook
The hills around in anger shook
for Mirran was revered
but none would brave the Wizard’s look
his power ever feared 

With no more magic in her spell
And fear to hear the tolling bell
young Mirran left sweet Calder dell
in sadness to depart
But mother blessed and wished her well
and peace came to her heart

So light the candle and rejoice
The man she wed was Mirran’s choice
Fulfilled with love we hear her voice
She sings so soft and sweet
A song of thanks, rejoice, rejoice
Her mortal life complete

A Scottish stanza 
Margaret Foster Oct 7th 2011