Bretwaldas Of Heathen Doom - Old Walls, Wild Woods

Beneath the spreading boughs of ages
In defence of time
Remnants stand, of battered armies
Sprung from Woden's line
For the words of the serpent's tongue
We paid a bitter price
Now behold the dawn's first rays
On fields of broken ice

Within old walls, and wild woods
Where the fallen leaves lie deep
The icy grip, of deepest winter
Shakes off a thousand years of sleep
And when it falls, the blood of ancients
To lie in pools upon the soil
It's strength will be our victory
Through wisdom
Through war
Through toil.