On the top of the Falconhill... I was standing surrounded by solitude Evening breeze as my only friend It was a beautiful dusk of November Darkness wrapping around the hills where paths end To my eyes reflected a distant fire A fire from far away A sign our enemy is approaching From the land beyond the bay Beyond the mist covered forest on the river I saw Three dozen ships with crosses on sails Soon everywhere burnt fires Mine among the others From the village a horde was marching Till death or fame! To my eyes reflected a distant fire A fire from far away A sign our enemy is approaching From the land beyond the bay By the time the sun was about to rise above the skyline The army of the cross and heathen hordes collided By the time the sun was lurking high behind a cloud Only the heathen swords were held against the sky They were slaughtered and vanished for now But they will return to spread their word and kill It was a god-against-god-battle I saw On the top of the Falconhill