XVI. QUEEN THYRĮ AND THE ANGELICA STALKS. NORTHWARD Over Drontheim, From the meadows green; Weeping in her chamber, In at all the windows Softly cooed the dove; But the sound she heard not, Then King Olaf entered, In his hand he carried Like a rainy midnight Could not cheer her gloom; Nor the stalks he gave her In her hands he placed them, Through the green leaves glistened But she cast them from her, On the floor she threw them "Richer presents," said she, "When he ravaged Norway, "But thou darest not venture Through the Sound to Vendland, My domains to rescue From King Burislaf; "Lest King Svend of Denmark, Forked Beard, my brother, Scatter all thy vessels As the wind the chaff.' Then up sprang King Olaf, "Never yet did Olaf Fear King Svend of Denmark; This right hand shall hale him Then he left the chamber, Thundering through the doorway, Loud his steps resounded Down the outer stair. Smarting with the insult, Through the streets of Drontheim Strode he red and wrathful, With his stately air. All his ships he gathered, In the region round; Down the coast of Norway, Sailed the fleet of Olaf Through the Danish Sound. With his own hand fearless, Steered he the Long Serpent, Strained the creaking cordage, Bent each boom and gaff; Till in Vendland landing, Then said Olaf, laughing, "Now will I confess it, XVII. KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD. LOUDLY the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, Where with their courses hauled Under the Isle of Svald Near to the mainland. After Queen Gunhild's death, Still on her scornful face, Under her frontlet. |