XV. A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR. A LITTLE bird in the air Is singing of Thyri the fair, The sister of Svend the Dane; To King Burislaf, it is said, And flee away from each other. They say that through heat and through cold, And flee away from each other. It is whispered King Olaf has seen, O, greatest wonder of all! D D Soon as the Spring appeared, Svend of the Forkèd Beard High his red standard reared, Eager for battle; While every warlike Dane, Seizing his arms again, Left all unsown the grain, Unhoused the cattle. Likewise the Swedish King So upon Easter day Stooped to such treason! Safe under Svald at last, Thence to hold on his course, Unto King Olaf's force, Lying within the hoarse Mouths of Stet-haven; Him to ensnare and bring Who his dead corse would fling KING OLAF'S WAR-HORNS. "STRIKE the sails!" King Olaf said; Let God dispose Of my life in the fight!" "Sound the horns!” said Olaf the King; Of Regnarock, Louder and louder the war-horns sang All the sails came down with a clang, The sun hung red As a drop of blood. In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; Earl Eric steered On the left with his oars. "These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, "At home with their wives had better stay, 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, 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. |