Fates now faded from a twilight time
When heathen hearts whitened and waned
Told in tongues in riddles and in rhymes
Treading in times when runes did reign

Winds do whisper of fame and fortune
The stone is standing for the pagan pride
For bonds of blood the widow wept
Her kindred kept her tears in tide

During the sacred tunes
There is steel to the stone
Raised in the age of runes
Oh memorial throne

Grand the granite carved and cut
The mourner's monument of stone by steel
In sinuous serpents from a mason's mind
The fortunate find what the runes reveal

Read the red and taste the tales
Hearken the hammers beating blows
Solemnly singing from the yesteryears
Of tales and tears and a widow's woe