HONOUR
I call ye all
to Woden's hall;
your temples round,
with ivy bound,
in goblets crown'd,
and plenteous bowls of burnish'd gold.
Where you shall laugh,
and dance, and quaff
the juice, that makes the Britons bold.
CHORUS
To Woden’s Hall all,
All to Woden’s Hall,
Where in plenteous Bowls of burnish’d gold,
We shall laugh
And dance and quaff
The juice that makes the Britons bold.