Black Raven Corsairs [R-V-N]

"See! warp is stretched<br>For warriors' fall,<br>Lo! weft in loom<br><br>'Tis wet with blood;<br>Now fight foreboding,<br>'Neath friends' swift fingers,<br>Our grey woof waxeth<br>With war's alarms,<br>Our warp bloodred,<br>Our weft corseblue.<br><br>"This woof is y-woven<br>With entrails of men,<br>This warp is hardweighted<br>With heads of the slain,<br>Spears blood-besprinkled<br>For spindles we use,<br>Our loom ironbound,<br>And arrows our reels;<br>With swords for our shuttles<br>This war-woof we work;<br>So weave we, weird sisters,<br>Our warwinning woof.<br><br>"Now Warwinner walketh<br>To weave in her turn,<br>Now Swordswinger steppeth,<br>Now Swiftstroke, now Storm;<br>When they speed the shuttle<br>How spearheads shall flash!<br>Shields crash, and helmgnawer<br>On harness bite hard!<br><br>"Wind we, wind swiftly<br>Our warwinning woof<br>Woof erst for king youthful<br>Foredoomed as his own,<br>Forth now we will ride,<br>Then through the ranks rushing<br>Be busy where friends<br>Blows blithe give and take.<br><br>"Wind we, wind swiftly<br>Our warwinning woof,<br>After that let us steadfastly<br>Stand by the brave king;<br>Then men shall mark mournful<br>Their shields red with gore,<br>How Swordstroke and Spearthrust<br>Stood stout by the prince.<br><br>"Wind we, wind swiftly<br>Our warwinning woof.<br>When sword-bearing rovers<br>To banners rush on,<br>Mind, maidens, we spare not<br>One life in the fray!<br>We corse-choosing sisters<br>Have charge of the slain.<br><br>"Now new-coming nations<br>That island shall rule,<br>Who on outlying headlands<br>Abode ere the fight;<br>I say that King mighty<br>To death now is done,<br>Now low before spearpoint<br>That Earl bows his head.<br><br>"Soon over all Ersemen<br>Sharp sorrow shall fall,<br>That woe to those warriors<br>Shall wane nevermore;<br>Our woof now is woven.<br>Now battlefield waste,<br>O'er land and o'er water<br>War tidings shall leap.<br><br>"Now surely 'tis gruesome<br>To gaze all around.<br>When bloodred through heaven<br>Drives cloudrack o'er head;<br>Air soon shall be deep hued<br>With dying men's blood<br>When this our spaedom<br>Comes speedy to pass.<br><br>"So cheerily chant we<br>Charms for the young king,<br>Come maidens lift loudly<br>His warwinning lay;<br>Let him who now listens<br>Learn well with his ears<br>And gladden brave swordsmen<br>With bursts of war's song.<br><br>"Now mount we our horses,<br>Now bare we our brands,<br>Now haste we hard, maidens,<br>Hence far, far, away."