THE SAGA OF KING OLAF.

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 honour'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 !

XVIII.

KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD.

ON the grey 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 harbour 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.

THE SAGA OF KING OLAF.

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!

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!

Let God dispose

Of my life in the fight !"

"Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; And suddenly through the drifting brume The blare of the horns began to ring, Like the terrible trumpet shock

Of Regnarock,

On the Day of Doom!

Louder and louder the war-horns sang
Over the level floor of the flood;
All the sails came down with a clang,
And there in the mist overhead

The sun hung red

As a drop of blood.

Drifting down on the Danish fleet
Three together the ships were lashed,
So that neither should turn and retreat ;
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

On 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 lashed,

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!

XX.

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;

"Sing, 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 !"