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