Are hidden behind
The flash of the shields,
And the rush of the banners
That toss in the wind.

But Skade's eagle eyes
Pierce the wall of the steel,
And behold from the skies
What the earth would conceal;
O'er the rush of the banners
She poises her wing,
And marks with a shadow
The brow of the King.

And, in bode of his doom,
Jaw of Wolf, be the tomb
Of the bones and the flesh,
Gore-bedabbled and fresh,
That cranch and that drip
Under fang and from lip.
As I ride in the van
Of the feasters on man,
With the King!

Grim wolf, sate my maw,
Full enow shall there be.
Hairy jaw, hungry maw,
Both for ye and for me!

Meaner food be the feast