Warrior of the plains, may your spirit run with the horses

The sun will not shine so fair with the loss of your bright eyes

You have departed these fair grounds to join your brethren in the skies,
newest star in the heavens

At twilight we will know that you gaze down on us, brave Frithlíc, Son of Frithmund

Your name will be forever whispered in the winds through the grasses in our lands