Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/123



All has its time, each time its need, Each age its proper work to do; We also flung our mite into The world's great treasure of bold deed. True, that's long since; but, after all, The mite was not so very small. Now the land's dwindled and decay'd, But our renown still lives in story. The days of our reported glory Were when the great King Belë sway'd. Many a tale is still related About the brothers Wulf and Thor, And gallant fellows by the score, Went harrying to the British shore, And plunder'd till their heart was sated. The Southrons shriek'd with quivering lip, "Lord, help us from these fierce men's grip," And these "fierce men," beyond all doubt, Had from our harbours sallied out. And how these rovers wreak'd their ire, And dealt out death with sword and fire! Nay, legend names a lion-hearted Hero that took the cross; in verity, It is not mentioned that he started

He left behind a large posterity, This promise-maker?

Yes, indeed; But how came you to?

O, I read His features clearly in the breed