It came upon a midnight clear, That glorious ballad of old,
Of a god that bent down to the earth
With sword and chakram were told:
"War on all Greece and death to men
Of the Conqueror's praise we sing."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
And watched as Death she would bring.
O ye, beneath life's crushing load Whose soul was crushed down low,
Who toil against Ares' way
Her painful steps are slow.
Look now! For she hath saved a babe
Her Fate lay on the wing:
O rest beyond the gauntlet, Xe
Your praises soon we'll sing.
For lo! The days are hastening on Told by shamaness' of old,
When with the ever-circling years
A Bard shall be foretold,
When a Warrior Princess shall reign
The warrior fights not alone,
And the whole world shall sing this song
For the Bard, the Warrior atones.