In far-off forests of the frosty north,
in western wilds and warlike marches,
on eastern shores shaken by storms,
and southern harbors where sea-steeds rest,
there tales are told of Thorvald's might,
weapons-wielder, well-famed warrior,
of Halvor's son, hero of battle.
Glad is the land that gains such a King,
by a strong sword-arm safely defended,
and happy the halls and hearths of the East,
ruled by Svava, our royal Queen,
spear-straight, star-bright, splendid lady,
rich in wisdom, worthy companion.
© 2004 - Mistress Dorigen of the Grey