And the poem, which you have seen before, but I feel like reposting:
The bale fire writhes beneath the sky;
The oak logs burn; the fire leaps high;
The shadows dance, and pool, and spill
In cascades down the fire crowned hill.
It matters not what brought you here, pious choice or random chance;
You'll hear the Master Piper play, and when you do, you, too, will dance.
Tonight there is no foe, nor feud; we'll leave such things for other days.
Tonight we are the human clan; we dance because the music plays.
So dance for love and dance for life;
Clear your mind of daily strife;
Take a lover; make a friend;
All too soon the dance will end.
There is no prize for holding back when Bacchus calls the Piper's tune;
It's madness NOT to join the dance while bale fire burns beneath the moon.
For while we dance the world is young, and so, my friend, are you and I:
From set of sun 'til break of day while bale fire burns beneath the sky.
And with the dawn the fire will die,
And saner light will fill the sky...
But we have heard the Pan's pipes play
From set of sun 'til break of day.