Oh Great Ægir (Ēagor),
whose power hath our sea-girt isle For ages guarded!
Father of the 9 cold crashing waves,
Lord of the gracious servants who received the gods most worthily,
Oh most generous host,
whose ale sated the highest of high,
I humbly call now for your magnanimous favour!
May your briney domain The invader claim And may Rán’s crashing daughters O'erturn the seaborne swine
To keep the whale’s way clear and guard the estate of the heirs of Hengest.
Invading enemies,
Take as your blot.
Their blood as libations,
A tribute to your strength.
Great terror may be felt In the arms of the daughters of the friend to divine guests. Perilous is the path of those who ride the roof of his hall.
Care-worn are many Who travel the whale road,
Yet by wyrd it is woven
That we with mirth offer our praises
Hail to your ever moving power.
Hail Odin
Hail the Gods
