VI. THE WRAITH OF ODIN. THE guests were loud, the ale was strong, King Olaf feasted late and long; The hoary Scalds together sang; O'erhead the smoky rafters rang. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The door swung wide, with creak and din; 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 Tales of the sea, and Sagas old. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. And ever, when the tale was o'er, Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The King retired; the stranger guest As one who from a volume reads, 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 The Havamal of Odin old, With sounds mysterious as the roar Of billows on a distant shore. Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. "Do we not learn from runes and rhymes Made by the gods in elder times, And do not still the great Scalds teach Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. Smiling at this, the King replied, Either by Saga-man or Scald." Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! Night wanes, O King! 't is 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, Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. King Olaf crossed himself and said: The one-eyed stranger was his wraith.” 5 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. Ploughing under the morning star, Old Iron-Beard in Yriar Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. He wiped the sweat-drops from his brow, And clattering came on horseback to King Olaf. |