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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

The Hunt Rides Tonight

Fasten your windows and bolt all your doors,
Draw tight your curtains and shades;
Keep the lights burning and stay out of sight,
For the Yuletide is turning;
The Hunt rides tonight.
Hordes of dead heroes from long-ago wars
Ride forth from Valhalla this eve,
And there’s blood in their eyes and they lust for a fight,
They will seize the unwary;
The Hunt rides tonight.

With shrieks and shrill hollers they take to the skies,
Like a curtain of mist they advance,
Riding the storm winds, the furious host,
They sweep down on the slumbering lands.
With their horses’ eyes burning and hounds at their heels,
The dead hunters seek out their prey,
Ripping down trees and tearing down walls,
Raining down doom on their way.
Scattering grain and shattering lives,
They lay waste to all in their path.
Ghostly hands tear down what humans have built,
Leaving destruction behind.
But the hunters sow seeds in the deep-frozen earth,
So that next year the crops will be kind.

Lock up your children and hide your fair wives,
Stay inside safe by the fire,
Set out your offerings for all the wild wights,
For the Yuletide is turning;
The Hunt rides tonight.
For the huntsmen seek food and the huntsmen seek lives
And blood is the mead in their horns,
They will sweep away all that is left in the fields,
So new seeds can be sprouted;
The Hunt rides tonight.

As for me, I will stand outside on the steps,
With the wind whipping chill through my hair,
Watching the skies as the clamor draws near
With the howling of wolves and the clashing of spears,
Watching the skies until He appears,
Riding the storm on His eight-legged steed,
Leading the dead through the skies,
Riding the winds at hurricane speed,
With two wolves at His side and His cloak of blue-black.
And a terrible gleam in His eye.
Wodenaz, come to me, take me away,
For I am your rightful prey;
Lift me beside You and off we will ride,
Leading the dead through the skies.

Fasten your windows and bolt all your doors,
All those who want to stay safe.
But I’m bride to the Huntsman, and with Him I will fly,
Riding the storm winds;
The Hunt rides tonight.
Wodenaz, drive Your spear into me,
Drink deep of my heart’s blood so red;
For the Hunt’s in my blood and there’s fire in my head
And I give myself freely;
The Hunt rides tonight.

© Laure Lynch     Gate of the Slain     Odhroerir Fellowship

Author of Odhroerir: Nine Devotional Tales of Odin's Journeys
and Water from the Well And Other Wyrd Tales of Odin

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