Song of the Shield-Wall

Hasten, oh sea-steed, over the swan-road, Foamy-necked ship oer the froth of the sea, Hengest has called us from Gotland and Frisia To Vortigern's country his army to be We'll take our pay there in sweeter than silver-, We'll take our plunder in richer than gold, For Hengest has promised us land for the fighting Land for the sons of the Saxons to hold!

Hasten, oh fyrdsmen, down to the river The dragonships come on the in-flowing tide The linden-wood shield and the old spear of ash-wood Are needed again by the cold water-side Draw up the shield-wall, oh shoulder companions Later whenever our story is told They'll say that we died guarding what we call dearest, Land that the sons of the Saxons will hold!

Hasten, of house-karls, north to the Dane-Law Harold Hardrada's come over the sea His longships he's laden with berserks from Norway To gain Cnut's crown and our master to be Bitter he'll find there the bite of our spear points Hard-running Northmen too strong to die old We'll grant him six feet, plus as much as he's taller Of land that the sons of the Saxons will hold!

Make haste, son of Godwin, southward from Stamford Triumph is sweet and your men have fought hard But William the Bastard has landed at Pevensey Burning the land you have promised to guard Draw up the spears on the hilltop at Hastings Fight 'til the sun drops and evening grows cold And die with the last of your Saxons around you Holding the land we were given to hold!