"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!
He will lay round thy neck a blood-red ring."
At the ring on her finger

Gazed Thora, the fairest of women.

At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encumbered, But screamed and drew up his feet as he slumbered; 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,

Two ghastly heads on the gibbet are swinging;
One is Jarl Hakon's and one is his thrall's,

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
In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft.
Heart's dearest,

Why dost thou sorrow so?

The floor with tassels of fir was besprent,

Filling the room with their fragrant scent.

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,

The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned.
Her maidens were seated around her knee,
Working bright figures in tapestry.

And one was singing the ancient rune
Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun.
And through it, and round it, and over it all
Sounded incessant the waterfall.

The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold,
From the door of Ladé's Temple old.

King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift,
But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift.
She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain,
Who smiled, as they handed it back again.

And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way,

Said, "Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say?"

And they answered: "O Queen! if the truth must be told,

The ring is of copper, and not of gold!"

The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek,
She only murmured, she did not speak :

"If in his gifts he can faithless be,
There will be no gold in his love to me."
A footstep was heard on the outer stair,
And in strode King Olaf with royal air.

He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love,
And swore to be true as the stars are above.

But she smiled with contempt as she answered: "O King,
Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?"
And the King: "O speak not of Odin to me,
The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be."
Looking straight at the King, with her level brows,
She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows.'

Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom,
He rose in his anger and strode through the room.

Why, then, should I care to have thee?" he said,"A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!”

His zeal was stronger than fear or love,

And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove.
Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled,
And the wooden stairway shook with his tread.
Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath,
"This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!"
Heart's dearest,

Why dost thou sorrow so?

L L

V.

THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS.

Now from all King Olaf's farms
His men-at-arms

Gathered on the Eve of Easter;
To his house at Angvalds-ness
Fast they press,

Drinking with the royal feaster.

Loudly through the wide-flung door
Came the roar

Of the sea upon the Skerry;
And its thunder loud and near
Reached the ear,

Mingling with their voices merry.

"Hark!" said Olaf to his Scald,
Halfred the Bald,

"Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,

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, His hoary locks

Flowing and flashing in the surges !"

Halfred answered: "I am called
The Unappalled!

Nothing hinders me or daunts me.
Hearken to me, then, O King,
While I sing

The great Ocean Song that haunts me."

"I will hear your song sublime
Some other time,"

Says the drowsy monarch, yawning,
And retires; each laughing guest
Applauds the jest ;

Then they sleep till day is dawning.

THE SAGA OF KING OLAF.

Pacing up and down the yard,
King Olaf's guard

Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping
O'er the sands, and up the hill,
Gathering still

Round the house where they were sleeping.

It was not the fog he saw,
Nor misty flaw,

That above the landscape brooded;
It was Eyvind Kallda's crew
Of warlocks blue,

With their caps of darkness hooded !

Round and round the house they go,
Weaving slow

Magic circles, to encumber
And imprison in their ring
Olaf the King,

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,
They groped and stared

Round about with steps unsteady;
From his window Olaf gazed,

And, amazed,

"Who are these strange people ?" said he.

"Eyvind Kallda and his men !"
Answered then

From the yard a sturdy farmer;
While the men-at-arms apace
Filled the place,

Busily buckling on their armour.

From the gates they sallied forth,
South and north,

Scoured the island coast around them,
Seizing all the warlock band,

Foot and hand

On the Skerry's rocks they bound them.

And at eve the King again
Called his train,

And, with all the candles burning,
Silent sat and heard once more
The sullen roar

Of the ocean tides returning.

Shrieks and cries of wild despair
Filled the air,

Growing fainter as they listened;
Then the bursting surge alone
Sounded on ;—

Thus the sorcerers were christened!

"Sing, O Scald, your song sublime,
Your ocean-rhyme,

Cried King Olaf: "it will cheer me !"
Said the Scald, with pallid cheeks,
"The Skerry of Shrieks
Sings too loud for you to hear me !”

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;
A blast of cold night-air came in,
And on the threshold shivering stood
A one-eyed guest, with cloak and hood.

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. The King exclaimed, "O greybeard 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.