men of the north They strive through this darkened land With only mount doom in their eyes can see A forest of one thousand spears awaiting Awaiting the battle
Battle Of Blackhelm Vale) THE CHRONICLES OF WAR: ??? THE WAR TESTAMENT OF CAYLEN-TOR (ON THE NIGHT OF THE BLOODYING OF SWORDS): O' grim gods of battle
the Heaven. I will pray forever. Take me to the Legend We have fought together [White Warrior:] My spirit is coming to join the black sword to the sea. The battle
dew 'Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go That small nations might be free But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves Or the shore of the Great North Sea
ships gushed through the sea. Like a wind from the north, our ancestors reached the shore. Men from Hordaland, Rogaland and Agder gathered for battle
not sea or cool waves But now there is darkness, cold and eternal winter, for the Frost giants have conquered the world To the North lies the castle
On many ships we have sailed Far beyond the north waves On the high northern seas We have found our way The shadowing voices of our Gods Singing on the
Bay of Biscay Freeze in North America, boil in Pakistan All along the Amazon, from the fire to the frying pan Whether air, sea or battle ground, desert
more such trials And never know the like again. From Oxford Book of Sea Songs, Palmer Somewhat different version recorded by Killen, 40 North to 40 North
the north strongest wind throw arrows in the high wall a captive will survive free he will revive from town to town in the distant sea he'll bring an
the foggy dew. 'Twas England bade our wild geese go That small nations might be free. Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves On the fringe of the grey North Sea
it all unfold Just the way the Bible told Joshua's endless day Keepin' the night at bay And the soldiers kept a comin' 'Til the ground looked like a sea
along Florida Bay There a paradise found for most all. The locals all live the fine life everyday Only few still alive may recall. About the sea and
light Ships tied stern to stern A battle on the north sea waves Hearts of braves brightly burn Berserks swing their metal-blades Battle hammers hit
A storm rolls in from the sea Covering the land with black thunder clouds Rain whips the ground at their feet As they come ashore in this foreign land
walked all day as well I walked across the desert plains And through the jagged hills I slept inside the north wind In a coracle at sea
dew. 'Twas England bade our Wild Geese go that small nations might be free. But their lonely graves are by Silva's waves or the fringe of the Great North Sea
of ravaged flesh, All enraptured by the searing kiss of steel, All surfeit from supping deep of the grim chalice of battle... Brooding gods of the north