There’s a chieftain in you—a leader
Of men in some glorious path—
For dauntless you are, and imperious,
And dignified in your wrath.
You vain and stubborn and tender
Fair son of the valiant North,
With a voice like the storm and the north-wind,
When it sweeps from the glaciers forth.
With the tawny sheen in your ringlets,
And the Norseland light in your eyes,