Near the walls, black shapes

Are bailing and crawling

Some are squat and broad, others tall and grim

With high helms and sable shields

Hundreds and hundreds more are pouring

The dark tide is flowing up to the walls

Thunder rolls in the valley

Rain comes lashing down

It’s a great field of dark corn tossed by a tempest of war

And every ear glints with barbed light

Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward

Let horse be bridled, horn bе sounded!

Forth Eorlingas!

It’s only a brief despitе

The hosts of Isengard are roaring against the wall

Orcs and hillmen are swarming about

Its feet from end to end

The men of Rohan have grown weary

The swords are notched and shields are riven

Suddenly a gaping hole is blasted in the wall:

The fire of Orthanc

The last assault comes sweeping like a dark wave

The defence is swept away and must go towards the citadel

Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward

Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!

Forth Eorlingas!

At last the dawn comes

And then, sudden and terrible

The sound of Helm’s horn rings out

Back from the depths come the echoes

As if a mighty herald stood on every cliff

Helm has arisen and comes back to war

The riders charge like wind across the grass

Neither orc nor man withstands them

Victory!

The Orcs reel, scream and cast aside

Both sword and spear as they flee

Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward

Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!

Forth Eorlingas!