New blood to course within these olden veins
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nd bring new light to eyes fast growing dim ; Aye, make those withered limbs to wear again The garb of youth. And you, most noble friends, I see the fire dart from each flashing eye, | That tells the dauntless spirit deep concealed, Which now impatient waits the hour to strike ; .And when we strike, let’s strike, good sirs, a blow iu aceWhich shall be felt beyond our well-loved isle J ;In every haunt of Danish power and pride. Into those Northmen’s breasts a telling fear (OCT aOur willing swords must strike and fiercely strike,~ ae ae ea y0 in Soe ee
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