Downward fluttered sail and banner, As alights the screaming lanner; Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, The Long Serpent's crew.
Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; Like a wolf's was his shaggy head,
His teeth as large and white; His beard, of gray and russet blended, Round as a swallow's nest descended; As standard-bearer he defended
Olaf's flag in the fight.
Near him Kolbiorn had his place, Like the King in garb and face, So gallant and so hale; Every cabin-boy and varlet Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; Like a river, frozen and star-lit, Gleamed his coat-of-mail.
By the bulkhead, tall and dark, Stood Thrand Rame of Thelemark, A figure gaunt and grand; On his hairy arm imprinted Was an anchor, azure-tinted; Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted Was his brawny hand.
Einar Tamberskelver, bare To the winds his golden hair, By the mainmast stood; Graceful was his form, and slender, And his eyes were deep and tender As a woman's, in the splendor Of her maidenhood.
In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork Watched the sailors at their work:
Heavens! how they swore! Thirty men they each commanded, Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, Shoulders broad, and chests expanded, Tugging at the oar.
These, and many more like these, With King Olaf sailed the seas,
Till the waters vast Filled them with a vague devotion, With the freedom and the motion, With the roll and roar of ocean
And the sounding blast.
When they landed from the fleet, How they roared through Drontheim's street,
Boisterous as the gale!
How they laughed and stamped and pounded,
Till the tavern roof resounded, And the host looked on astounded As they drank the ale!
Never saw the wild North Sea Such a gallant company
Sail its billows blue
Never, while they cruised and quar relled,
Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Harald, Owned a ship so well apparelled, Boasted such a crew!
A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR.
A LITTLE bird in the air Is singing of Thyri the fair,
The sister of Svend the Dane; And the song of the garrulous bird In the streets of the town is heard, And repeated again and again.
Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. To King Burislaf, it is said, Was the beautiful Thyri wed,
And a sorrowful bride went she; And after a week and a day, She has fled away and away From his town by the stormy sea. Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. They say, that through heat and through cold, Through weald, they say, and through. wold,
By day and by night, they say, She has fled; and the gossips report She has come to King Olaf's court, And the town is all in dismay. Hoist up your sails of silk,
And flee away from each other. It is whispered King Olaf has seen, Has talked with the beautiful Queeng And they wonder how it will end: For surely, if here she remain, It is war with King Svend the Dane, And King Burislaf the Vend! Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.
O, greatest wonder of all !
It is puolished in hamlet and hall,
It roars like a flame that is fanned! The King—yes, Olaf the King— Has wedded her with his ring, And Thyri is Queen in the land! Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other.
QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS.
NORTHWARD over Drontheim, Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, Sang the lark and linnet
From the meadows green; Weeping in her chamber, Lonely and unhappy, Sat the Drottning Thyri, Sat King Olaf's Queen. In at all the windows Streamed the pleasant sunshine, On the roof above her
Softly cooed the dove; But the sound she heard not, Nor the sunshine heeded, For the thoughts of Thyri Were not thoughts of love. Then King Olaf entered, Beautiful as morning, Like the sun at Easter Shone his happy face; In his hand he carried Angelicas uprooted, With delicious fragrance Filling all the place. Like a rainy midnight Sat the Drottning Thyri, Even the smile of Olaf Could not cheer her gloom;
Nor the stalks he gave her With a gracious gesture, And with words as pleasant As their own perfume.
In her hands he placed them, And her jewelled fingers
Through the green leaves glistened Like the dews of morn;
But she cast them from her, Haughty and indignant, On the floor she threw them With a look of scorn. "Richer presents," said she, "Gave King Harald Gormson To the Queen, my mother,
Than such worthless weeds; "When he ravaged Norway, Laying waste the kingdom, Seizing scatt and treasure For her royal needs.
"But thou darest not venture Through the Sound to Vendland, My domains to rescue
From King Burislaf;
"Lest King Svend of Denmark, Forked Beard, my brother, Scatter all thy vessels
As the wind the chaff."
Then up sprang King Olaf, Like a reindeer bounding, With an oath he answered
Thus the luckless Queen : "Never yet did Olaf Fear King Svend of Denmark; This right hand shall hale him By his forked chin !"
Then he left the chamber, Thundering through the doorway, Loud his steps resounded Down the outer stair.
Smarting with the insult, Through the streets of Drontheim Strode he red and wrathful, With his stately air.
All his ships he gathered, Summoned all his forces, Making his war levy In the region round; Down the coast of Norway, Like a flock of sea-gulls, Sailed the fleet of Olaf
Through the Danish Sound. With his own hand fearless, Steered he the Long Serpent, Strained the creaking cordage, Bent each boon and gaff;
Till in Vendland landing, The domains of Thyri He redeemed and rescued From King Burislaf. Then said Olaf, laughing, "Not ten yoke of oxen Have the power to draw us Like a woman's hair! "Now will I confess it, Better things are jewels Than angelica stalks are
For a Queen to wear."
KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD.
LOUDLY the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, As with his fleet he steered
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, So the old Saga saith, Plighted King Svend his faith To Sigrid the Haughty; And to avenge his bride, Soothing her wounded pride, Over the waters wide
King Olaf sought he. Still on her scornful face, Blushing with deep disgrace, Bore she the crimson trace Of Olaf's gauntlet ; Like a malignant star, Blazing in heaven afar, Red shone the angry scar Under her frontlet.
Oft to King Svend she spake, "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, Svend of the Forked Beard High his red standard reared, Eager for battle;
While every warlike Dane, Seizing his arms again, Left all unsown the grain, Unhoused the cattle.
Likewise the Swedish King Summoned in haste a Thing, Weapons and men to bring .In aid of Denmark; Eric the Norseman, too, As the war-tidings flew, Sailed with a chosen crew From Lapland and Finmark.
So upon Easter day Sailed the three kings away, Out of the sheltered bay, In the bright season; With them Earl Sigvald came Eager for spoil and fame; Pity that such a name
Stooped to such treason! Safe under Svald at last, Now were their anchors cast, Safe from the sea and blast, Plotted the three kings; While, with a base intent, Southward Earl Sigvald went, On a foul errand bent,
Unto the Sea-kings. Thence to hold on his course, Unto King Olaf's force, Lying within the hoarse
Mouths of Stet-haven; Him to ensnare and bring, Unto the Danish king, Who his dead corse would fling Forth to the raven !
KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD.
On the gray sea-sands King Olaf stands,
Northward and seaward He points with his hands. With eddy and whirl The sea-tides curl, Washing the sandals Of Sigvald the Earl. The mariners shout, The ships swing about, The yards are all hoisted, The sails flutter out.
The war-horns are played, The anchors are weighed, Like moths in the distance The sails flit and fade. The sea is like lead, The harbor lies dead, As a corse on the sea-shore, Whose spirit has fled !
On that fatal day, The histories say, Seventy vessels Sailed out of the bay.
But soon scattered wide O'er the billows they ride, While Sigvald and Olaf Sail side by side.
Cried the Earl: "Follow me! I your pilot will be,
For I know all the channels Where flows the deep sea !" So into the strait Where his foes lie in wait, Gallant King Olaf Sails to his fate! Then the sea-fog veils The ships and their sails; Queen Sigrid the Haughty, Thy vengeance prevails!
Drifting down on the Danish fleet Three together the ships were lashed, So that neither should turn and res treat;
In the midst, but in front of the rest The burnished crest
Of the Serpent flashed.
King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck, With bow of ash and arrows of oak, His gilded shield was without a fleck, His helmet inlaid with gold,
And in many a fold Hung his crimson cloak.
On the forecastle Ulf the Red Watched the lashing of the ships; "If the Serpent lie so far ahead, We shall have hard work of it here," Said he with a sneer
On his bearded lips.
King Olaf laid an arrow on string, "Have I a coward on board?" said he Shoot it another way, O King!" Sullenly answered Ulf,
The old sea-wolf;
"You have need of me !"
In front came Svend, the King of the Danes,
Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes;
And on board of the Iron Beard Earl Eric steered
To the left with his oars.
"These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King,
"At home with their wives had better stay,
Than come within reach of my Serpent's sting:
But where Eric the Norseman leads Heroic deeds
Will be done to-day !"
Then as together the vessels crashed, Eric severed the cables of hide, With which King Olaf's ships were
And left them to drive and drift
With the currents swift
Of the outward tide.
Louder the war-horns growl and snarl, Sharper the dragons bite and sting! Eric the son of Hakon Jarl
A death-drink salt as the sea Pledges to thee,
Olaf the King!
EINAR TAMBERSKELVER.
IT was Einar Tamberskelver
Stood beside the mast;
From his yew-bow, tipped with silver, Flew the arrows fast; Aimed at Eric unavailing,
As he sat concealed, Half behind the quarter-railing, Half behind his shield.
First an arrow struck the tiller, Just above his head; "Šing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller," Then Earl Eric said. "Sing the song of Hakon dying Sing his funeral wail !" And another arrow flying Grazed his coat-of-mail.
Turning to a Lapland yeoman, As the arrow passed,
Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman Standing by the mast."
Sooner than the word was spoken Flew the yeoman's shaft; Einar's bow in twain was broken, Einar only laughed.
"What was that?" said Olaf, standing
On the quarter-deck. "Something heard I like the stranding Of a shattered wreck." Einar then, the arrow taking
From the loosened string, Answered, "That was Norway breaking
From thy hand, O King!"
"Thou art but a poor diviner," Straightway Olaf said;
"Take my bow, and swifter, Einar, Let thy shafts be sped. Of his bows the fairest choosing, Reached he from above; Einar saw the blood-drops oozing Through his iron glove.
But the bow was thin and narrow: At the first assay,
O'er its head he drew the arrow, Flung the bow away;
Said, with hot and angry temper Flushing in his cheek, "Olaf! for so great a Kämper Are thy bows too weak!" Then, with smile of joy defiant On his beardless lip,
Scaled he, light and self-reliant, Eric's dragon-ship.
Loose his golden locks were flowing, Bright his armor gleamed; Like Saint Michael overthrowing Lucifer he seemed.
KING OLAF'S DEATH-DRINK. ALL day has the battle raged, All day have the ships engaged, But not yet is assuaged
The vengeance of Eric the Earl. The decks with blood are red, The arrows of death are sped, The ships are filled with the dead,
And the spears the champions hurl They drift as wrecks on the tide, The grappling-irons are plied, The boarders climb up the side,
The shouts are feeble and few. Ah! never shall Norway again See her sailors come back o'er the main;
They all lie wounded or slain,
Or asleep in the billows blue! On the deck stands Olaf the King, Around him whistle and sing 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;
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