Fates now faded from a twilight time When heathen hearts whitened and waned Told in tongues in riddles and in rhymes Treading in times when runes did reign
Winds do whisper of fame and fortune The stone is standing for the pagan pride For bonds of blood the widow wept Her kindred kept her tears in tide
During the sacred tunes There is steel to the stone Raised in the age of runes Oh memorial throne
Grand the granite carved and cut The mourner's monument of stone by steel In sinuous serpents from a mason's mind The fortunate find what the runes reveal
Read the red and taste the tales Hearken the hammers beating blows Solemnly singing from the yesteryears Of tales and tears and a widow's woe
