❝ So blow, ye tempests, blow, And my spirit shall not quail; I have
fought with many a foe, I have weathered many a gale; And in this hour
of death, Ere I yield my fleeting breath, Ere the fire now burning
slow Shall come rushing from below, And this worn and wasted frame Be
devoted to the flame, I will raise my voice in triumph, Singing free ;
To the great All-Father’s home I am driving through the foam, I am
sailing to Valhalla O'er the sea. So blow, ye stormy winds, And ye
flames, ascend on high! In easy, idle bed Let the slave and coward
die! But give me the driving keel, Clang of shields and flashing
steel, Or my foot on foreign ground, With my enemies around! Happy,
happy, thus I’d yield, On the deck or in the field, My last breath,
shouting On To victory. But since this has been denied They shall say
that I have died Without flinching, like a monarch Of the sea. ❞ —
Charles Mackay – Inspiration and Writing RP Blog Vaelrin Firestorm |
Moon Guard World of Warcraft
