Beyond the invisible girdle of north
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Lies the well-hidden castle of frost
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And the paths to its towers, carved in ice.
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Are guarded by wolves of ominous size.
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Great are their numbers in winter's realm
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And great is their strength by all the accounts
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And nobody passes the borders unseen
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By the fiery eyes of the servants of wild
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Yet some of the evil spirits
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Those most unobedient and vile
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Have been cast out of the enchanted domain
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And doomed to forever roam the land
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When full-moon casts its evil beams
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On silent forests and ice-clad streams
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Unlucky travellers may then hear
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A chilling howl of anger afar
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There the downfallen children of snow
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Each of the twelve expelled once
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Have gathered a threatening army of wolves
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To avenge upon mankind the curse laid on them
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People of highlands, men of the north - folk of fierce courage, endurance and might - yet even
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They fear the onslaughts of the phantoms at night, and above all their leaders, whom they
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named wolfghosts - dreadful masters with white on their breast and bellow-like nostrils,
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inclined for warm flesh
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And when over the sinister mountains of north
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Storms forth a raging blizzard of frost
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Through the snowclouds may sometimes be seen
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Foggy shades of rushing terrible beasts
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Ahead of the flock leaps a tremendous wolf -
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one of the twelve in hunger and wrath
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Gnashing its fangs of iron and steel,
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whilst leading the majestic legion of night
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Pity to those forlorn who may ever perceive
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The triumphant king of the nebular herd...
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Wolfghosts (In Winter)
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Heresiarh |