King Christian stood by the lofty mast
       &nbsp In mist and smoke;
His sword was hammering so fast,
Through Gothic helm and brain it passed;
Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,
       &nbsp In mist and smoke.
"Fly!" shouted they, "fly, he who can!
Who braves of Denmark's Christian
       &nbsp The stroke?"

Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar,
       &nbsp Now is the hour!
He hoisted his blood-red flag once more,
And smote upon the foe full sore,
And shouted Loud, through the tempest's roar,
       &nbsp "Now is the hour!"
"Fly!" shouted they, "for shelter fly!
Of Denmark's Juel who can defy
       &nbsp The power?"

North Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent
       &nbsp Thy murky sky!
Then champions to thine arms were sent;
Terror and Death glared where he went;
From the waves was heard a wail, that
       &nbsp rent
       &nbsp Thy murky sky!
From Denmark, thunders Tordenskiol',
Let each to Heaven commend his soul,
       &nbsp And fly!
Path of the Dane to fame and might!
       &nbsp Dark-rolling wave!
Receive thy friend, who, scorning flight
Goes to meet danger with despite,
Proudly as thou the tempest's might
       &nbsp Dark-rolling wave!
And amid pleasures and alarm;
And war and victory, be thine arms
       &nbsp My grave!