Our Sagas
This is the Saga of The People of Gjallarhorn Kindred
The Watchman
Nourished by Sol's golden shine,
The single babe of mothers mine;
Son of Valfather and giant kin,
Hastened to Asgard, all welcome within...
Gifts bestowed of senses so keen,
No deed in nine worlds shall go unseen;
A hundred miles, by night as by day,
Even growth of the grasses in lands far away...
White armor clad, on sturdy steed,
To Bifrost he rode, to fulfill a great need;
Late to slumber, early to wake,
Less sleep then a bird, the watchman will take...
From Himinbiorg on Gull-top rode,
To Mimir's well, gold tooth took hold;
Once again into his grasp,
Gjallarhorn! The bright god clasped...
A terrible blast this trumpet will sound,
Through the nine worlds, and abound;
A signal to AEsir, the time is here,
Ragnorock and giants draw near...
As Noble Heimdall, our patron is known,
We honor his name by our actions shown,
Until the twilight when gods are dethrowned!
Bodvarr Vilhjalmur
Composed for Gjallarhorn Kindred
Hail Heimdall!