FROM out the cold house of the north
Thor's stalwart children hurtled forth,
Forsook their sullen seas;
Southward the Gothic waggons rolled,
While bards foretold a realm of gold,
And fame, and boundless ease.
Loud rang the shields with sounding blows,
The furious din of war arose
Adown the dreary land;
But Woden held them in his ken,