Lindesfarne (Holy Isle), Northumberland, in Summer
Ah Lindisfarne, our Holy Isle, our castle, our protection;
The parting of the land and sea, this tidal intersection
The famine, whirlwinds, lightning strikes
With fiery dragons, comet-like
Recorded, if you take a look
Upon its Rock, a Doomsday Book
Of imminent disaster.
The Viking Longships preyed, we prayed
And sieges planned were roughly laid
And Norsemen, fierce and brave, attacked
The church was burned, the town was sacked
St Cuthbert with his monks took fright
And put up a resounding fight
Then went to join their Master.