All were together called,
Under the Isle of Svald
Near to the mainland.
After Queen Gunhild’s death,
So the old Saga saith, 10
Plighted King Svend his faith
To Sigrid the Haughty;
And to avenge his bride,
Soothing her wounded pride,
Over the waters wide 15
King Olaf sought he.
Still on her scornful face,
Blushing with deep disgrace,
Bore she the crimson trace
Of Olaf’s gauntlet; 20
Like a malignant star,
Blazing in heaven afar,
Red shone the angry scar
Under her frontlet.
Oft to King Svend she spake, 25
“For thine own honor’s sake
Shalt thou swift vengeance take
On the vile coward!”
Until the King at last,
Gusty and overcast, 30
Like a tempestuous blast
Threatened and lowered.
Soon as the Spring appeared,
Svend of the Forked Beard
High his red standard reared, 35
Eager for battle;
While every warlike Dane,
Seizing his arms again,
Left all unsown the grain,
Unhoused the cattle. 40
Likewise the Swedish King
Summoned in haste a Thing,
Weapons and men to bring
In aid of Denmark;
Eric the Norseman, too, 45
As the war-tidings flew,
Sailed with a chosen crew
From Lapland and Finmark.
So upon Easter day
Sailed the three kings away, 50
Out of the sheltered bay,
In the bright season;
With them Earl Sigvald came,
Eager for spoil and fame;
Pity that such a name 55
Stooped to such treason!
Safe under Svald at last,
Now were their anchors cast,
Safe from the sea and blast,
Plotted the three kings; 60
While, with a base intent,
Southward Earl Sigvald went,
On a foul errand bent,
Unto the Sea-kings.
Thence to hold on his course 65
Unto King Olaf’s force,
Lying within the hoarse
Mouths of Stet-haven;
Him to ensnare and bring
Unto the Danish king, 70
Who his dead corse would fling
Forth to the raven!
XVIII.
King Olaf and Earl Sigvald
ON the gray sea-sands
King Olaf stands,
Northward and seaward
He points with his hands.
With eddy and whirl 5
The sea-tides curl,
Washing the sandals
Of Sigvald the Earl.
The mariners shout,
The ships swing about, 10
The yards are all hoisted,
The sails flutter out.
The war-horns are played,
The anchors are weighed,
Like moths in the distance 15
The sails flit and fade.
The sea is like lead,
The harbor lies dead,
As a corse on the sea-shore,
Whose spirit has fled! 20
On that fatal day,
The histories say,
Seventy vessels
Sailed out of the bay.
But soon scattered wide 25
O’er the billows they ride,
While Sigvald and Olaf
Sail side by side.
Cried the Earl: “Follow me!
I your pilot will be, 30
For I know all the channels
Where flows the deep sea!”
So into the strait
Where his foes lie in wait,
Gallant King Olaf 35
Sails to his fate!
Then the sea-fog veils
The ships and their sails;
Queen Sigrid the Haughty,
Thy vengeance prevails! 40
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 5
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 10
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, 15
And there in the midst overhead
The sun hung red
As a drop of blood.
Drifting down on the Danish fleet
Three together the ships were lashed, 20
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, 25
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. 30
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 35
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, 40
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; 45
And on board of the Iron Beard
Earl Eric steered
To the left with his oars.
“These soft Danes and Swedes,” said the King,
“At home with their wives had better stay, 50
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, 55
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. 60
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, 65
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, 5
As he sat concealed,
Half behind the quarter-railing,
Half behind his shield.
First an arrow struck the tiller,
Just above his head; 10
“Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller,”
Then Earl Eric said.
“Sing the song of Hakon dying,
Sing his funeral wail!”
And another arrow flying 15
Grazed his coat
of mail.
Turning to a Lapland yeoman,
As the arrow passed,
Said Earl Eric, “Shoot that bowman
Standing by the mast.” 20
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 25
On the quarter-deck.
“Something heard I like the stranding
Of a shattered wreck.”
Einar then, the arrow taking
From the loosened string, 30
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, 35
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. 40
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 45
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, 50
Scaled he, light and self-reliant,
Eric’s dragon-ship.
Loose his golden locks were flowing,
Bright his armor gleamed;
Like Saint Michael overthrowing 55
Lucifer he seemed.
XXI.
King Olaf’s Death-Drink
ALL day has the battle raged,
All day have the ships engaged
But not yet is assuaged
The vengeance of Eric the Earl.
The decks with blood are red, 5
The arrows of death are sped,
The ships are filled with the dead,
And the spears the champions hurl.
They drift as wrecks on the tide,
The grappling-irons are plied, 10
The boarders climb up the side,
The shouts are feeble and few.
Ah! never shall Norway again
See her sailors come back o’er the main;
They all lie wounded or slain, 15
Or asleep in the billows blue!
On the deck stands Olaf the King,
Around him whistle and sing
The spears that the foemen fling,
And the stones they hurl with their hands. 20
In the midst of the stones and the spears,
Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears,
His shield in the air he uprears,
By the side of King Olaf he stands.
Over the slippery wreck 25
Of the Long Serpent’s deck
Sweeps Eric with hardly a check,
His lips with anger are pale;
He hews with his axe at the mast,
Till it falls, with the sails overcast, 30
Like a snow-covered pine in the vast
Dim forests of Orkadale.
Seeking King Olaf then,
He rushes aft with his men,
As a hunter into the den 35
Of the bear, when he stands at bay.
“Remember Jarl Hakon!” he cries;
When lo! on his wondering eyes,
Two kingly figures arise,
Two Olafs in warlike array! 40
Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear
Of King Olaf a word of cheer,
In a whisper that none may hear,
With a smile on his tremulous lip;
Two shields raised high in the air, 45
Two flashes of golden hair,
Two scarlet meteors’ glare,
And both have leaped from the ship.
Earl Eric’s men in the boats
Seize Kolbiorn’s shield as it floats, 50
And cry, from their hairy throats,
“See! it is Olaf the King!”
While far on the opposite side
Floats another shield on the tide,
Like a jewel set in the wide 55
Sea-current’s eddying ring.
There is told a wonderful tale,
How the King stripped off his mail,
Like leaves of the brown sea-kale,
As he swam beneath the main; 60
But the young grew old and gray,
And never, by night or by day,
In his kingdom of Norroway
Was King Olaf seen again!
XXII.
The Nun of Nidaros
IN the convent of Drontheim,
Alone in her chamber
Knelt Astrid the Abbess,
At midnight, adoring,
Beseeching, entreating 5
The Virgin and Mother.
She heard in the silence
The voice of one speaking,
Without in the darkness,
In gusts of the night-wind, 10
Now louder, now nearer,
Now lost in the distance.
The voice of a stranger
It seemed as she listened,
Of some one who answered 15
Beseeching, imploring,
A cry from afar off
She could not distinguish.
The voice of Saint John,
The beloved disciple, 20
Who wandered and waited
The Master’s appearance,
Alone in the darkness,
Unsheltered and friendless.
“It is accepted, 25
The angry defiance,
The challenge of battle!
It is accepted,
But not with the weapons
Of war that thou wieldest! 30
“Cross against corselet,
Love against hatred,
Peace-cry for war-cry!
Patience is powerful;
He that o’ercometh 35
Hath power o’er the nations!
“As torrents in summer,
Half dried in their channels,
Suddenly rise, though the
Sky is still cloudless, 40
For rain has been falling
Far off at their fountains;
“So hearts that are fainting
Grow full to o’erflowing,
And they that behold it 45
Marvel, and know not
That God at their fountains
Far off has been raining!
“Stronger than steel
Is the sword of the Spirit; 50
Swifter than arrows
The light of the truth is,
Greater than anger
Is love, and subdueth!
“Thou art a phantom, 55
A shape of the sea-mist,
A shape of the brumal
Rain, and the darkness
Fearful and formless;
Day dawns and thou art not! 60
“The dawn is not distant,
Nor is the night starless;
Love is eternal!
God is still God, and
His faith shall not fail us; 65
Christ is eternal!”
The Musician’s Tale: Interlude
A STRAIN of music closed the tale,
A low, monotonous, funeral wail,
That with its cadence, wild and sweet,
Made the long Saga more complete.
“Thank God,” the Theologian said, 5
“The reign of violence is dead,
Or dying surely from the world;
While Love triumphant reigns instead,
And in a brighter sky o’erhead
His blessed banners are unfurled. 10
And most of all thank God for this:
The war and waste of clashing creeds<
br />
Now end in words, and not in deeds,
And no one suffers loss, or bleeds,
For thoughts that men call heresies. 15
“I stand without here in the porch,
I hear the bell’s melodious din,
I hear the organ peal within,
I hear the prayer, with words that scorch
Like sparks from an inverted torch, 20
I hear the sermon upon sin,
With threatenings of the last account.
And all, translated in the air,
Reach me but as our dear Lord’s Prayer,
And as the Sermon on the Mount. 25
“Must it be Calvin, and not Christ?
Must it be Athanasian creeds,
Or holy water, books, and beads?
Must struggling souls remain content
With councils and decrees of Trent? 30
And can it be enough for these
The Christian Church the year embalms
With evergreens and boughs of palms,
And fills the air with litanies?
“I know that yonder Pharisee 35
Thanks God that he is not like me;
In my humiliation dressed,
I only stand and beat my breast,
And pray for human charity.
“Not to one church alone, but seven, 40
The voice prophetic spake from heaven;
And unto each the promise came,
Diversified, but still the same;
For him that overcometh are
The new name written on the stone, 45
The raiment white, the crown, the throne,
And I will give him the Morning Star!
“Ah! to how many Faith has been
No evidence of things unseen,
But a dim shadow, that recasts 50
The creed of the Phantasiasts,
For whom no Man of Sorrows died,
For whom the Tragedy Divine
Was but a symbol and a sign,
And Christ a phantom crucified! 55
Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Delphi Poets Series Book 13) Page 59
