And a hurried flight by sea; Of grim Vikings, and the rapture Of the sea-fight, and the capture, And the life of slavery. How a stranger watched his face Then as Queen Allogia's page, Then his cruisings o'er the seas, And to Scilly's rocky shore; All these thoughts of love and strife Line 2. Of grim Vikings, and their rapture Trained for either camp or court, Young and beautiful and tall; When at sea, with all his rowers, Outside of his ship could run. On the ship-rails he could stand, And at once two javelins throw; At all feasts where ale was strongest Sat the merry monarch longest, First to come and last to go. Norway never yet had seen When in arms completely furnished, Thus came Olaf to his own, III. THORA OF RIMOL. "Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me! Danger and shame and death betide me! Thus cried Jarl Hakon To Thora, the fairest of women. "Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee Said Thora, the fairest of women. So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker Of Thora, the fairest of women. "Rich and honored shall be whoever Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. Wept Thora, the fairest of women. Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee! For all the king's gold I will never betray thee!" "Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl, And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. More pale and more faithful Was Thora, the fairest of women. From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, "Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying!" And Hakon answered, " Beware of the king! Gazed Thora, the fairest of women. At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encum bered, But screamed and drew up his feet as he slum bered; The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife, And the Earl awakened no more in this life. But wakeful and weeping Sat Thora, the fairest of women. At Nidarholm the priests are all singing, And the people are shouting from windows and walls While alone in her chamber Swoons Thora, the fairest of women. IV. QUEEN SIGRID THE HAUGHTY. Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft croft. Heart's dearest, Why dost thou sorrow so? The floor with tassels of fir was besprent, She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine, The air of summer was sweeter than wine. Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay Between her own kingdom and Norroway. But Olaf the King had sued for her hand, Her maidens were seated around her knee, And one was singing the ancient rune Jf Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. And through it, and round it, and over it all The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, |