|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 42
"If you win, be content; he who praying for peace
yields his sword, is no longer a foe;
"Prayer's a Valhalla-child, hear the suppliant voice; he's
a coward who answereth no.
"Wounds are viking's reward, and the pride of the man
on whose breast or whose forehead they stand;
Let them bleed on unbound till the close of the day, if
you wish to be one of our band."
Thus his law was enrolled,--and his name, every day,
through all foreign coasts grew renowned;
For his like was not seen on the blue-rolling sea, nor the
valor his champions crowned.
Then he sat by the rudder and sullenly gazed in the
depths of the blue rocking tide;
"Thou art deep; in thy depths thriveth peace, it may
be, but it thriveth not here where we ride.
"Is the White God enraged? Let him take up his sword,
I will fall if it thus is designed;
But he sits in the skies, and the thoughts he sends
down which forever are clouding my mind."
When the conflict came on, then his spirit arose like an
eagle refreshed for its flight;
And his brow it was clear, and his voice it rang high,--
like the thunderer first in the fight.
So from conquest to conquest unbroken he went, and
was safe o'er the high, foaming grave;
And he saw in the south many islands and rocks, till
he came to the calm Grecian wave.
When he saw the green groves that stand out from the
waves, and the temple before him uprose,
What he thought Freyja knows, and the poet knows too,
and the lover, he knows, ah! he knows!
"Here we ought to have dwelt, here's the island and
grove, here the fane as my father set forth.
It was here, it was here I invited my love, but the cruel
one staid in the North.
"Surely peace has its home in those blissful green dales,--
in the colonnades, memory's words;
Like the whisper of love are the murmuring founts, and
a bride-song the voice of the birds.
"Where is Ingeborg now? Hath forgotten me quite for
the gray-haired and withered old king?
I can never forget, but my life I would give, if one sight
of my love it would bring.
"Now three years have passed by since the land I beheld
where heroic achievement prevails;
Tower the honored mounts yet to the heavenly blue? is
it green in my forefathers' dales?
"On the grave where my father is laid I once planted
a tree; can it be it lives now?
And who cares for the weakling? Thou earth give it
moisture, and dew, kindly heaven, give thou.
"But why linger I longer on far distant waves, taking
tribute and striking men down?
For my soul but despises the glittering gold, and I've
gained quite enough of renown.
"There's a flag on the mast and it points to the North,
in the North is the land I hold dear;
I will follow the course of the heavenly winds, and back
to the Northland I'll steer."
XVI.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|