Engla Tocyme

Men of the sea, on the waves they did ride
 Drifting toward their new dawn
 Sailing forth with the wind as their guide
 Fathers of a kingdom to be born
 Their blood flows in me
 Through their eyes I see
 With their spirit I shall bring down my blade
 I speak with their words
 Their callings I have heard
 For their honour I shall bring down my blade
 Offa's sons, by the waters they fared
 Gliding beyond Angeln's plains
 Swiftly on to their fortunes ahead
 Masters of a land to be claimed
 Old English: Hruron and feollon cynelicu getimbru somod and anlipie, and gehwær sacerdas and mæssepreostas betwuh wibedum wæron slægene and cwielmde; biscopas mid folcum buton ænigre are sceawunge ætgædre mid iserne and lige fornumene wæron.
 Translation: Kingly buildings tumbled and fell, together and singularly, and everywhere priests and clergymen were slain and killed among their alters; bishops with their folk without regard to any mercy were destroyed with iron and fire together.