Courtesy of Others ~
Tune: "St. Stephen", medieval carol
Wodan is a holy god
And stark with Ases’ might,
‘Tis sung how Balder’s horse he healed
Before the Gods’ fair sight.
O mortal man, you may well fear
When Hunt rides through the sky,
And crouch beside your fire warm
When Wodan's host roars by.
The hoofbeats sound all through the air,
The Wild Hunters call,
However boldly mortal dare,
To Host’s might he must fall.
The trolls all rage and furious ride,
From howe to howe they howl,
And alfs ride forth from mounds' high tops
Beneath their deathly cauls.
The winter night is wild with snow
That howls about the roofs,
We hear the riders’ wailing horn,
We hear their dreadful hooves.
The ghosts awake to mount their steeds,
The slain from restless sleep,
They gather all in Wodan’s train,
To ride from keep to keep.
Now ale is brewed and fire is warm,
And clan sits by the hearth,
The Yule-log is burning bright,
Of food we have no dearth.
We set out offerings for the Host,
Hung from the old dark yew,
The apples red and braided bread,
And cups of frothing brew.
For some we know will ride this night,
As empty lie their beds,
The stable-doors will hang ajar,
The horses bear the dead.
Voice: Michaela Macha
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