Then over the waste of snows The noonday sun uprose,
Through the driving mists revealed,
Like the lifting of the Host, By incense-clouds almost Concealed.
On the shining wall a vast
And shadowy cross was cast
From the hilt of the lifted sword,
And in foaming cups of ale
The Berserks drank "Was-hael! To the Lord!
THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT.
THORBERG SKAFTING, master-builder, In his shipyard by the sea, Whistled, saying, ""Twould bewilder Any man but Thorberg Skafting, Any man but me!"
Near him lay the Dragon stranded, Built of old by Raud the Strong. And King Olaf had commanded He should build another Dragon, Twice as large and long.
Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, As he sat with half-closed eyes,
And his head turned sideways, drafting That new vessel for King Olaf
Twice the Dragon's size.
Round him busily hewed and hammered Mallet huge and heavy axe;
Workmen laughed and sang and clamoured, Whirred the wheels that into rigging
Spun the shining flax!
All this tumult heard the master,— It was music to his ear;
Fancy whispered all the faster,
"Men shall hear of Thorberg Skafting For a hundred year!"
Workmen sweating at the forges Fashioned iron bolt and bar, Like a warlock's midnight orgies Smoked and bubbled the black cauldron With the boiling tar.
Did the warlocks mingle in it, Thorberg Skafting, any curse? Could you not be gone a minute But some mischief must be doing, Turning bad to worse?
"Twas an ill wind that came wafting From his homestead words of woe; To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, Oft repeating to his workmen, Build ye thus and so.
After long delays returning
Came the master back by night; To his shipyard longing, yearning, Hurried he, and did not leave it Till the morning's light.
"Come and see my ship, my darling!" On the morrow said the King; "Finished now from keel to carling; Never yet was seen in Norway Such a wondrous thing!"
In the shipyard, idly talking,
At the ship the workmen stared: Some one, all their labour balking, Down her sides had cut deep gashes, Not a plank was spared!
"Death be to the evil-doer!"
With an oath King Olaf spoke; "But rewards to his pursuer!" And with wrath his face grew redder Than his scarlet cloak.
Straight the master-builder, smiling, Answered thus the angry King:
"Cease blaspheming and reviling, Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting Who has done this thing!"
Then he chipped and smoothed the planking, Till the King, delighted, swore,
With much lauding and much thanking, "Handsomer is now my Dragon
Than she was before!"
Seventy ells and four extended
On the grass the vessel's keel; High above it, gilt and splen did, Rose the figure-head ferocio us, With its crest of steel.
Then they launched her from the tressels, In the shipyard by the sea;
She was the grandest of all vessels, Never ship was built in Norway Half so fine as she!
The Long Serpent was she christened, 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! They who to the Saga listened Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting For a hundred year!
THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT.
SAFE at anchor in Drontheim Bay King Olaf's fleet assembled lay,
And, striped with white and blue, 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 grey 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 graud;
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 splendour 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 quarrelled, 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 Queen; 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 published 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.
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