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 "They have no word to say: my helm's unbound, My breastplate by the axe unriveted: Blood's on my eyes; I hear a spreading sound Like waves or wolves that clamour in my head.

"Eater of men, old raven, come this way, And with thine iron bill open my breast: To-morrow find us as we are to-day, And bear my heart to her that I love best.

"Through Upsala, where drink the Jarls and sing, And clash their golden bowls in company, Bird of the moor, carry with tireless wing To Ylmer's daughter there the heart of me.

"And thou shalt see her standing, straight and pale, High-pedestalled on some rook-haunted tower: She has two earrings wrought of silver scale, And eyes like stars that shine in twilight hour.