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.

Ir 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 arrows 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!"

"Thou art but a poor diviner,"
Straightway Olaf said;

"Take my bow, and swifter, Einar,
Let thy shafts be sped."
Of his bows the fairest choosing,
Reached he from above;

Einar saw the blood-drops oozing

Through his iron glove.

But the bow was thin and narrow;

At the first assay,

O'er its head he drew the arrow,

Flung the bow away;

Said, with hot and angry temper

Flushing in his cheek,

"Olaf! for so great a Kämper Are thy bows too weak!"

Then, with smile of joy defiant
On his beardless lip,

Scaled he, light and self-reliant,
Eric's dragon-ship.