Classic Poem

In deeds of arms, our fathers rise,
Illustrious in their offspring's eyes:
They fearless rush'd through Ocean's storms,
And dar'd grim Death in all its forms;
Each youth assum'd the sword and shield,
And grew a hero in the field.

Shall we degenerate from our race,
Inglorious, in the mountain chase?
Arm, arm in fallen Hubba's right;
Place your forefathers in your sight;
To fame, to glory fight your way,
And teach the nations to obey.

Assume the oars, unbind the sails;
Send, Odin! send propitious gales.
At Loda's stone, we will adore
Thy name with songs, upon the shore;
And, full of thee, undaunted dare
The foe, and dart the bolts of war.

No feast of shells, no dance by night,
Are glorious Odin's dear delight:
He, king of men, his armies led,
Where heroes strove, where battles bled;
Now reigns above the morning-star,
The god of thunder and of war.

Bless'd who in battle bravely fall!
They mount on wings to Odin's Hall;
To Music's sound, in cups of gold,
They drink new wine with chiefs of old;
The song of bards records their name,
And future times shall speak their fame.

Hark! Odin thunders! haste on board;
Illustrious Canute! give the word.
On wings of wind we pass the seas,
To conquer realms, if Odin please:
With Odin's spirit in our soul,
We 'll gain the globe from pole to pole.