| They foughte as warriors, glory cover’d men
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| Age of the epic wars, here the tales begin…
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| Bloode cover’d northerne grounde when trusted gods were bann’d
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| Unsheath’d, the pagan sworde, freedom to defende
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| The sounde of proven steele, still carried by the wynde
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| Free men, free warriors, forearm’d for lande and kin
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| Thundere roars on highe, feede the eagles in the skye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| Battle-wyndes anighte, oh father with one eye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| Oh up highe the ravens flye, still gatheringe their lore
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| And stille northerne wyndes are breathinge tales of times longe gone
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| Swordsmen, the braven ones, with passion in their heartes
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| Deeds of heroic kinde in times so wilde and darke
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| Thundere roars on highe, feede the eagles in the skye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| Battle-wyndes anighte, oh father with one eye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| And thus I caste the runes and see what is foretolde
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| Oh heare their whisper’d sounde, their powere to unfolde…
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| Thundere roars on highe, feede the eagles in the skye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| Battle-wyndes anighte, oh father with one eye
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| We are northern warriors — Heirs to the fighte
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| Thundere roars on highe… feede the eagles in the skye…
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| Battle-wyndes anighte… oh father withe one eye…
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| Heare the ancient battle-cry… |