High One, Brigantia!, Our legends all describe
All hail Brigantia, the leader of the tribe!
Cold light of winter sun is breaking into dawn
Across the north there moves a creeping earthly form
Yet in the burning heat with rivers dry and low
The touch of the armoured hand will make the waters flow
Raised by the sacred spring, you from the waters came
Tribe of Brigantes blessed their rivers with your name
Lady of the fire and ice and wingéd victory!
You tend our land of Yorkshire, keep the rivers flowing free
High One, Brigantia!, Our legends all describe
All hail Brigantia, the leader of the tribe!
When the time has come to die, you lead them to your Hall
Where they will feast and merry make until the chosen morn
When they shall once again return to mortal world, reborn
And bring you praise and honour with offerings and song
High One, Brigantia! With warrior's globe and spear
Warrior Brigantia, For many thousand year
High One, Brigantia!, Our legends all describe
All hail Brigantia, the leader of the tribe!
High One, Brigantia!
