As raging fires burn around our place And crashing waves threaten us, unnerve us Your old ridges and lines, most beauteous Grant me your strength, as I caress your face Grant me divine love, your eternal grace For when our joints grow stiff and cold and ache When my bones are brittle and start to break My shaking hands destroy our blames by mace Wiping all imperfections from our bone Because here you are perfect, old or new Here I am close, perfection oh so blue A great distant sun burns brightly alone For you, I grow the sweetest honeydew For you, the Midgard serpent overthrown.