The King had called and off he went And on a sword our money spent A soldier's wage to me he sent As he marched off to war My back unto the plow was bent Though in my chores I made no dent The sunset it was heaven sent For I could work no more And in his absence our son grew A grown man's work was all he knew There was what I could teach him, too But that was not enough He learned the bow, an axe he threw His father's foe he yearned to hew And I knew what he longed to do When he grew strong and tough To serve a King, be brave and bold Spurred on by tales the old men told To earn the glory, and the gold Not for a farmer's boy With high adventure well foretold My plow for his sword now was sold He left me feeling weary, old And gone was all my joy So now my heart within my chest Has called me out to face the test I arm myself to join the quest And march myself to war With each new kill my rage expressed I soon begin to feel hard-pressed With one more thrust, my final rest And then I'll grieve no more They're at Valhalla's door.