I call to Abnoba of the wilderness,
your bow at the ready, your well-honed shafts at hand;
keen of eye you are, goddess, and fleet of foot,
your nerve never falters, your aim never errs.
Abnoba who we see in the shift of shadows,
whose breath we feel on the back of the neck,
we hear you in the cry of the hawk, the bay of the wolf,
we know you in the tangled wood, the cold-water stream,
the sweet scent of fallen leaves in decay.
The madness of the hunt is yours, O goddess,
the pounding heart of predator and prey;
Abnoba of the shining eyes, I honor you.

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