O Värmeland, thou fairest,
thou best beloved land,
Thou crown of the loveliness of Sweden.
Yea, even should I come into the Promised Land,
Still would I not forget my Northern Eden.
Yea, there will I live and die and ever will I stay.
And when from out of Värmeland I take to me a maid,
Well wot I that never shall I rue me.

O Värmeland lads are stalwart,
their hearts are proud and light.
By nought in the world can they be daunted.
And at the call of Kings they will out into the fight,
where blades are bared and
battle-song is chaunted.
And still the Russian rues the day he learn'd at bitter cost,
For Värmeland her sons will die nor count their life as lost
if given for the land they love, or glory.