Hail to the Thunder,
Hail to the Storm,
Hail to the Land where the Warrior’s born,
Hail to his armour, gleaming gold,
Hail to the battle sounds of old.
Down from the mountain,
Down from the hill,
The Wind that stirs,
The Time that’s still,
Hail to god, Hail to his Throne,
Hail to the blood, Hail to the bone.
Thunder drums in heavens high,
Fires blaze’n immortal sky,
The lands of men in bated breath,
Await the Warrior’s Dance of Death.
[As the Warrior ambles, on his way, to one who watches, he halts to say — ]
“To some it comes with blood and will,
Others, with fear it curses, yet does not kill,
The one is a hero to ages known,
The other lives his days, and dies unknown.”
[And so the watcher sounds a roar,
Which ascends one heaven,
And seven more — ]
Hail to the Warrior,
Hail to War,
Hail to the Darkness,
Hail to the Dream.
Hail to the Tale,
of battles old.
Hail to the Bard,
who watched and told.