| Oh black raven, my raven; | |
| What have you foreseen. | |
| Dark tidings and woe, | |
| Rich pickings for death. | |
| Let the gods wipe my tears, | |
| With this falling rain. | |
| Let this lake be my graveside, | |
| And woods the golden hall. | |
| Our braves long since fallen, | |
| With the tides of the war. | |
| Our words no more spoken, | |
| I'm ready to fall. | |
| Bare message, my raven; | |
| To gods I long to see. | |
| Blackbird of the chosen, | |
| Bare this prayer for me. | |
| Oh black raven, my raven; | |
| Bare message for me. | |
| Come closer the foe, | |
| And take my last breath. | |
| Blackbird of the chosen, | |
| Bare this prayer for me. | |
| Let the gods wipe my tears, | |
| With this falling rain. | |
| Let this lake be my graveside, | |
| And woods the golden hall. | |
| Bare message, my raven; | |
| To gods I long to see. | |
| Blackbird of the chosen, | |
| Bare this prayer for me. |
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