Ever ray of sun shall rise,
Every cloud be gone,
For no more royal eas this land of kings
Than hope, this morning shone.

Every mound shall open,
Horns sound for the onset of war,
And Rohans wrath be woken,
With the courage and strengh of the bore.

And the horn shall sound this morning,
Loud and clear in the deep,
Sprits of kings be woken,
We shall defend the keep!

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