A colde sable midwinter's nighte
In the wake of the storme
Loweringe clouds, a darksome skye

Fiercest wyndes, thundere roars
The huntinge wolves, an eerie sounde
Oh the doom's drawing nearer

A deafening blare, sinister row
Baneful signes, awe and feare


Oh see them ride, crossinge the skies
Asgard's warriors are raisinge a storme tonighte
Oh, heare afar, howlinge in the darke

The Ride of Asgard is preyinge througheoute the nighte

The Wilde Host is passing by

Arm'd and wroth be the horde
Undeade men, wolfe-warriors
One-ey'd olde Man to the fore

Some were burnt, some beheaded
Some still are spear'd by the sworde
Lo, beware, yielde their pathe

Avoide their sighte or be wolf'd by their coarse

Oh see them ride, crossinge the skies

Asgard's warriors are raisinge a storme tonighte
Oh, heare afar, howlinge in the darke
The Ride of Asgard is preyinge througheoute the nighte


Oh see them ride, crossinge the skies
Asgard's warriors are raisinge a storme tonighte

Oh, heare afar, howlinge in the darke
The Ride of Asgard is preyinge througheoute the nighte