Lord of Elves, and lord of the field,
Lord of leaves and linden-shield;
Darker days are now left behind
And comes a warmer wind.
We drink and feast to thy merry health,
We'll pray to prosper, pray for wealth;
Fair was the blót, and fairer the skies,
We hail to the king who never dies.
Sing for laughter, sing for cheer,
Sing for a another fruitful year;
Sing for the love of a youthful maid
And sheath the shining blade.
All is well, and all is fine,
A horn of ale and a cup of wine!
Bring the flute, and bring the drum,
For the king who never dies is come.