When bugle-notes the champions rally,
From out the silver gates they ride;
But I alone join not the sally,
I linger gladly by thy side.
When Valhal's maidens pass me, smiling,
The mead-horn with its rim of gold;
Thee, only thee, my love beguiling,
My tender, loving arms enfold.

A leafy cottage near the meadow
I'd build us by the dark-blue sea,
And there we'd rest us 'neath the shadow
Of many a golden-fruited tree;
And when bright Valhal's sun each morning,
With his clear torch in splendor rose,--
We'd hasten to the gods returning,
Yet longing for our home's repose.

Thy golden locks, with sunshine flushing,
Wreathed with a starry crown should be;
So my pale lily, rosy blushing,
In Vingolf-hall should dance with me.
Then, by my love from danger guarded,
I'd with thee to our home repair,--
Where singeth Brage, silver-bearded,
Our wedding song each evening fair.

How sweet the evening song-bird's vesper!
It cometh forth from Valhal's shore;