Who crossed the Great Atlantic
To beach their ships on misted shores
Who rode the eastern stormwinds
And heaved on the heathen oar
From the land of ice
And the land of fire
Past the glacier isle
Past the wooded sandy shore
Drink from her flowing waters!
Taste of her cascade streams!
Hunt from her brimming forest!
Vinland
Drink from her flowing waters!
Taste of her cascade streams!
Hunt from her brimming forest!
But Eastern winds found you
And carried Skaldic songs from home
And so your spirits dragged you
Back to the Allfather’s shores
To the land of ice
And the land of fire
Past the wooded land
Past the isle of ice and stone
Sail, Northlanders, ye masters of the Western Sea!
Heave Away! Rape the waves with rabid oars!
Sail, Northlanders, ye masters of the Western Sea!
Tell the saga of this new found land of fjords
Our shores are strewn with iron
Our fields are sown with runes
Along the coast where the ancient winds still blow
In the air we still can hear
The skalds sing their haunting tunes
They are calling back the wayward spirits
They are calling us home