I saw the pallid corpse of the dead sun, borne through the nothern sky. Blasts from Niffelheim - lifted the sheeted mists, around him as he passed.

Balder the beautiful - God of the summer sun, fairest of all the Gods! Light from his forehead beamed - Runes were upon his tongue, as on the warrior's sword and the voice forever cried...

Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And through the misty air passed like the mournful cry, of sunward sailing cranes! Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And died away through the dreary night, in accents of despair!

All things in earth and air - bound were the magic spell, never to do him harm. Even the plants and stones - all save the mistletoe, the sacred mistletoe. Hoeder the blind of God - whose feet are shod with silence, pierced through that gentle breast. With his sharp spear by fraud - made of the mistletoe, the accursed mistletoe and the voice forever cried...

Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And through the misty air passed like the mournful cry, of sunward sailing cranes! Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And died away through the dreary night, in accents of despair!

They laid him in his ship - with horse and harness, as on a funeral pyre. Odin placed a ring upon his finger and whispered in his ear. They launched the burning ship, it floated far away over the misty sea. Till like the sun is seemed - sinking beneath the waves, Balder returned no more and the voice forever cried...

Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And through the misty air passed like the mournful cry, of sunward sailing cranes! Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And died away through the dreary night, in accents of despair!

Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And through the misty air passed like the mournful cry, of sunward sailing cranes! Balder the beautiful is dead, is dead! And died away through the dreary night, in accents of despair!