Now food forego and drinking;
On war be ye all thinking,
To serve the king who've bound ye
For roof and raiment found ye;
Reflect there's prize and booty
For all who do their duty;
Away with fear inglorious,
If ye would be victorious!
Great Rolf, the land who shielded,
And who its sceptre wielded,
Who freely fed and paid us,
With mail and swords array'd us,
Now lies on bier extended,
His life by treachery ended--
To us be like disaster,
Save we avenge our master.
THE HAIL-STORM.
From the Ancient Norse.
(This piece describes the disaster of Sigvald, Earl of Jomsborg, a
celebrated viking or pirate, who, according to tradition, was repulsed
from the coast of Norway by Hakon Jarl, with the assistance of Thorgerd, a
female demon, to whom Hakon sacrificed his youngest son, Erling.)
For victory as we bounded,
I heard, with fear astounded,
The storm, of Thorgerd's waking,
From Northern vapours breaking.
Sent by the fiend in anger,
With din and stunning clangour,
To crush our might intended,
Gigantic hail descended.
A pound the smallest pebble
Did weigh, and others treble;
Full dreadful was the slaughter;
And blood ran out like water,
Ran, reeking, red and horrid
From batter'd cheek and forehead.
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