Who bravery as their duty deem'd,
And ne'er from danger started;
Such Tordenskiold, and Adeler,
And Juul, and many others were.
Our native land has ever teem'd
With warriors gallant-hearted.

But who had e'er of bravery
The gallant Hvidfeld's measure?
Who e'er saw Death so plain as he,
And enter'd it with pleasure?
Ne'er shall his name oblivion meet,
For with his death he sav'd our fleet.
Our native land has ever teem'd
With warriors gallant-hearted.

'Gainst numerous foes we fought one day
A fight so fierce and gory,
And next the foe Sir Hvidfeld lay,
To danger close and glory;
And there was no man fought so stout
As Hvidfeld fought, that bloody bout.
Our native land has ever teem'd
With warriors gallant-hearted.

But as Sir Hvidfeld broadsides loud
Lay taking and returning,
His own fire set his vessel proud,
His Dannebrog, a burning.
"Slip anchor, Sir," his sailors cry,