Echoes from the Silvern Forge of Battle

And in the great battle
The heroic warrior of the north
Took up his scramasax and spear
And did slay his foes heroically
But many was their number
And he did fall with honour
And pride in his heart
To the speartips of the enemy

And as he lay in the field of battle
Great maidens of war did descend
On silvern steeds, and he was carried
To the golden halls of his forefathers
And the assembled host
Did raise their horns
And hail him eternally
In the halls of Valhalla