The spears that the foemen fling,
And the stones they hurl with their hands.
In the midst of the stones and the spears, Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears,
His shield in the air he uprears,
By the side of King Olaf he stands.
Over the slippery wreck Of the Long Serpent's deck Sweeps Eric with hardly a check, His lips with anger are pale;
He hews with his axe at the mast, Till it falls, with the sails overcast, Like a snow-covered pine in the vast Dim forests of Orkadale.
Seeking King Olaf then, He rushes aft with his men, As a hunter into the den
Of the bear, when he stands at bay.
"Remember Jarl Hakon!" he cries; When lo! on his wondering eyes, Two kingly figures arise,
Two Olafs in warlike array!
Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear Of King Olaf a word of cheer, In a whisper that none may hear, With a smile on his tremulous lip;
Two shields raised high in the air, Two flashes of golden hair,
Two scarlet meteors' glare,
And both have leaped from the ship.
Earl Eric's men in the boats Seize Kolbiorn's shield as it floats, And cry, from their hairy throats, "See! it is Olaf the King!"
While far on the opposite side Floats another shield on the tide, Like a jewel set in the wide Sea-current's eddying ring.
There is told a wonderful tale, How the King stripped off his mail, Like leaves of the brown sea-kale, As he swam beneath the main ;
But the young grew old and gray, And never, by night or by day, In his kingdom of Norroway Was King Olaf seen again!
In the convent of Drontheim,
Alone in her chamber
Knelt Astrid the Abbess,
At midnight, adoring,
Beseeching, entreating The Virgin and Mother.
She heard in the silence The voice of one speaking, Without in the darkness, In gusts of the night-wind, Now louder, now nearer, Now lost in the distance.
The voice of a stranger It seemed as she listened, Of some one who answered Beseeching, imploring, A cry from afar off
She could not distinguish.
The voice of Saint John, The beloved disciple,
Who wandered and waited
The Master's appearance, Alone in the darkness, Unsheltered and friendless.
"It is accepted,
The angry defiance,
The challenge of battle!
It is accepted,
But not with the weapons Of war that thou wieldest!
"Cross against corselet, Love against hatred,
Peace-cry for war-cry! Patience is powerful;
He that o'ercometh
Hath power o'er the nations!
"As torrents in summer,
Half dried in their channels, Suddenly rise, though the Sky is still cloudless, For rain has been falling Far off at their fountains;
"So hearts that are fainting Grow full to o'erflowing, And they that behold it Marvel, and know not That God at their fountains Far off has been raining!
"Stronger than steel
Is the sword of the Spirit; Swifter than arrows
The light of the truth is, Greater than anger Is love, and subdueth!
"Thou art a phantom, A shape of the sea-mist, A shape of the brumal Rain, and the darkness Fearful and formless;
Day dawns and thou art not!
"The dawn is not distant, Nor is the night starless; Love is eternal!
God is still God, and
His faith shall not fail us; Christ is eternal ! ”
A STRAIN of music closed the tale, A low, monotonous, funeral wail, That with its cadence, wild and sweet, Made the long Saga more complete.
"Thank God," the Theologian said, "The reign of violence is dead, Or dying surely from the world; While Love triumphant reigns instead, And in a brighter sky o'erhead His blessed banners are unfurled. And most of all thank God for this: The war and waste of clashing creeds Now end in words, and not in deeds, And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, For thoughts that men call heresies.
"I stand without here in the porch, I hear the bell's melodious din, I hear the organ peal within,
I hear the prayer, with words that scorch Like sparks from an inverted torch, I hear the sermon upon sin,
With threatenings of the last account.
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