Foaming furls of the dragon's track
Sweep toward the craggy shore,
There to break on rock and reef
And none can spare the widow's grief
When they hear the dragon roar.

Storm god's breath in billowed sail
Bring down the fire and blood.
And the wolves drink well
From the men that fell
Beneath the northern flood.

Then the dragon turns as the fires burn high
To drink the winter's mead
But a year will fly
And the time is nigh
For the Fenris wolf to feed.