With his own hand fearless Steered he the Long Serpent, Strained the creaking cordage, Bent each boom and gaff; Till in Vendland landing, Then said Olaf, laughing, "Now will I confess it, XVII. KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD. Loudly the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, Southward to Vendland; Where with their courses hauled All were together called, Under the Isle of Svald Near to the mainland. After Queen Gunhild's death, Still on her scornful face, Red shone the angry scar Oft to King Svend she spake, 66 For thine own honor's sake Shalt thou swift vengeance take On the vile coward!" Until the King at last, Gusty and overcast, Like a tempestuous blast Threatened and lowered. Soon as the Spring appeared, High his red standard reared, Eager for battle; While every warlike Dane, Left all unsown the grain, Likewise the Swedish King So upon Easter day Sailed the three kings away, Stooped to such treason! Safe under Svald at last, Thence to hold on his course Unto King Olaf's force, Mouths of Stet-haven; Him to ensnare and bring Who his dead corse would fling XVIII. KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD. On the gray sea-sands With eddy and whirl The mariners shout, The war-horns are played, The sails flit and fade. The sea is like lead, The harbor lies dead, As a corse on the sea-shore, On that fatal day, The histories say, Sailed out of the bay. But soon scattered wide Cried the Earl: "Follow me! I your pilot will be, For I know all the channels So into the strait Where his foes lie in wait, Sails to his fate! Then the sea-fog veils XIX. KING OLAF'S WAR-HORNS. "Strike the sails!" King Olaf said; "Never shall men of mine take flight; Never away from battle I fled, Never away from my foes! |