Men of the sea, on the waves they did ride Drifting toward their new dawn Sailing forth with the wind as their guide Fathers of a kingdom to be born
Their blood flows in me Through their eyes I see With their spirit I shall bring down my blade I speak with their words Their callings I have heard For their honour I shall bring down my blade
Offa’s sons, by the waters they fared Gliding beyond Angeln’s plains Swiftly on to their fortunes ahead Masters of a land to be claimed
Old English: Hruron and feollon cynelicu getimbru somod and anlipie, and gehwær sacerdas and mæssepreostas betwuh wibedum wæron slægene and cwielmde; biscopas mid folcum buton ænigre are sceawunge ætgædre mid iserne and lige fornumene wæron.
Translation: Kingly buildings tumbled and fell, together and singularly, and everywhere priests and clergymen were slain and killed among their alters; bishops with their folk without regard to any mercy were destroyed with iron and fire together.