Page:Once a Week Volume 7.djvu/161

. 2, 1862.] of his court. It purposes to be a dialogue between a Valkyrie, or chooser of the slain, and a Raven, and gives a graphic account of Harald’s wars and domestic matters:

men wearing bracelets

Be mute whilst I sing

Of Harald the hero—

High Norroway’s king;

I’ll duly declare

A discourse which I heard,

Betwixt a bright maiden

And black raven bird.

The Valkyrie’s vext

No war-field to find;

The speech she knew well

Of the wild feather’d kind,

And thus she bespake him

Who bears the brown bill,

So proud as he perch’d on

The peak of the hill.

What do ye here, ravens,

And whence come ye say,

Your heads turn’d direct to

The dying sun’s ray?

Bits of flesh hold your claws—

There’s blood flowing free

From your beaks, surely nigh

Dead bodies there be.”

Then wiping his beak,

Bloody red on the rock,

The eagle’s sworn brother

Thus answer’d and spoke:

Harald we’ve follow’d,

Of Halfdan the son,

Ever since from the egg

That we egress have won.”

Then ye know, bird, the king,

Whose keep is in Kvine,

The young king—the Norse king—

Whose keels cut the brine;

Red-rimm’d are his bucklers,

Betarr’d are his oars—

His sails are all bleach’d

With the sea-spray and showers.”

Abroad will drink Yule,

The young king, and will try

To wake up, O maiden,

The wild game of Frey,

Of the warmth of the hearth

He weary is grown;

He loathes the close chamber

And cushions of down.

Heard ye not the hard fight

Near Hafirsfirth beach,

Twixt the king of high kindred

And Kotva the rich?

Sail’d ships from the East

Prepared for war stern;

Their dragon heads gaped,

Their gilded sides burn.

They were fill’d with proud freemen

Well furnish’d with shields,

And the very best weapons

The western land yields;

Grimly the Baresarkers

Grinn’d, biting steel,—

Howl’d the wolf-heathens

War madness they feel.

They moved ’gainst the monarch

Whose might makes them pine,

Gainst the king—the Norse king—

Who keeps court at Utstein;

Flinch’d the king’s bark at first,

For they ply’d her right well—

There was hammering on helmets

Ere Haklangr fell.

Left the land to the lad

With the locks long and full,

Rich Kotva, the lord,

Thick of neck, like the bull;

Neath the thwarts themselves threw,

They who’d wounds, in despair,

Their heads to the keel

And their heels to the air.

On their shoulders their shields,

Such as Swafnir’s roof form,

Flinging swift as a fence

From the fierce stony storm;

The yeomen affrighted

From Hafirsfirth speed,

And arrived at their homes

They call hoarsely for mead.

The slain strew the strand

To the very great joy

Of ourselves and of Odin,

The chief of one eye.”

Of his wars and his prowess

With wonder I’ve heard;

Now speak of his wives

And his women, O bird!”

He had damsels from Holmrygg

And Hordaland, too;

And damsels from Hedemark

Dainty of hue;

But he sent them with gifts

To their countries again,

When he wedded Ranhilda

The beautiful Dane.”

I warrant he’s bounteous,

And well doth reward

The warriors and gallants

His kingdom who guard.

O, yes, he is bounteous!

And bravely they fare

Who in Harald’s dominions

Hew food for the bear;

With coin he presents them,

And keen polish’d glaives,

With mail from Hungaria

And Osterland slaves.

O happy lives have they

Who help him in war,

Can run to the mast-head

Or manage the oar;

Make the row-locks to creak,

And the row-bench to crack,

And in their lord’s service

Are never found slack.