The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, "If in his gifts he can faithless be, He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love, But she smiled with contempt as she answered: "O King, And the King: "O speak not of Odin to me, His zeal was stronger than fear or love, And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. Why dost thou sorrow so? V. THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS. Now from all King Olaf's farms Gathered on the Eve of Easter; Drinking with the royal feaster. Mingling with their voices merry. "Listen to that song, and learn it! If by such songs you would earn it! "For of all the runes and rhymes Of all times, Best I like the ocean's dirges, When the old harper heaves and rocks, Flowing and flashing in the surges!” Halfred answered: "I am called Nothing hinders me or daunts me. The great Ocean Song that haunts me." "I will hear your song sublime Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping Round the house where they were sleeping. It was not the fog he saw, Nor misty flaw, That above the landscape brooded; With their caps of darkness hooded} Round and round the house they go, Magic circles to encumber As he helpless lies in slumber. Then athwart the vapours dun The Easter sun Streamed with one broad track of splendour! In their real forms appeared The warlocks weird, Awful as the Witch of Endor. Blinded by the light that glared, Round about with steps unsteady; And, amazed, "Who are these strange people?" said he. "Eyvind Kallda and his men !" From the yard a sturdy farmer; Busily buckling on their armour. From the gates they sallied forth, Scoured the island coast around them, Foot and hand On the Skerry rocks they bound them. Called his train, And, with all the candles burning, Of the ocean tides returning. Shrieks and cries of wild despair Growing fainter as they listened; Thus the sorcerers were christened! "Sing, O Scald, your song sublime, Cried King Olaf: "It will cheer me!" Sings too loud for you to hear me!" VI.-THE WRAITH OF ODIN. THE guests were loud, the ale was strong, The hoary Scalds together sang; Dead writes Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The King exclaimed, "O graybeard pale! Come warm thee with this cup of ale." The foaming draught the old man quaffed, The noisy guests looked on and laughed, Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Then spake the King: "Be not afraid; Sit here by me." The guest obeyed, And, seated at the table, told Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. And ever, when the tale was o'er, Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. As one who from a volume reads, He spake of heroes and their deeds, Of lands and cities he had seen, And stormy gulfs that tossed between. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Then from his lips in music rolled With sounds mysterious as the roar Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Smiling at this, the King replied, Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! Night wanes, O King! 'tis time for sleep!" Then slept the King, and when he woke. The guest was gone, the morning broke. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. They found the doors securely barred, They found the watch-dog in the yard, There was no footprint in the grass, And none had seen the stranger pass. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. King Olaf crossed himself and said: "I know that Odin the Great is dead; Sure is the triumph of our Faith, The one-eyed stranger was his wraith." Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. VII. IRON-BEARD. OLAF the King, one summer morn, Sending his signal through the land of Drontheim. And to the Hus-Ting held at Mere With their war weapons ready to confront him. Old Iron-Beard in Yriar Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions. Hodden-gray was the garb he wore, And by the Hammer of Thor he swore; He hated the narrow town, and all its fashions. But he loved the freedom of his farm, His ale at night, by the fireside warm, Gudrun his daughter, with her flaxen tresses. He loved his horses and his herds, The smell of the earth, and the song of birds, His well-filled barns, his brook with its water-cresses. Huge and cumbersome was his frame; So at the Hus-Ting he appeared, On horseback, with an attitude defiant. And to King Olaf he cried aloud, That tossed about him like a stormy ocean: "Such sacrifices shalt thou bring, As other kings have done in their devotion!" King Olaf answered: "I command This land to be a Christian land; Here is my Bishop who the folk baptizes! "But if you ask me to restore Your sacrifices, stained with gore, Then will I offer human sacrifices! |