320 AND then the blue-eyed Norseman told And in each pause the story made The strange and antiquated rhymes Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, THE MUSICIAN'S TALE. THE SAGA OF KING OLAF. I. THE CHALLENGE CF THOR. I AM the God Thor, I am the War God, Blown by the night-wind, And thus single-handed II.-KING OLAF'S RETURN. Laid his hand upon his sword, As he leaned upon the railing, And his ships went sailing, sailing Came the youthful Olaf home, Through the midnight sailing, sailing, Listening to the wild wind's wailing, And the dashing of the foam. To his thoughts the sacred name And the tale she oft had told Then strange memories crowded back How a stranger watched his face Scanned his features one by one, Saying, "We should know each other; I am Sigurd, Astrid's brother, Thou art Olaf, Astrid's son!" Then as Queen Allogia's page, Old in honours, young in age, Chief of all her men-at-arms; Till vague whispers, and mysterious, Reached King Valdemar, the imperious, Filling him with strange alarms. Then his cruisings o'er the seas, Westward to the Hebrides, And to Scilly's rocky shore; And the hermit's cavern dismal, Christ's great name and rites baptismal, In the ocean's rush and roar. All these thoughts of love and strife As the stars' intenser light Northward in the summer night. On the ship-rails he could stand, And at once two javelins throw; First to come and last to go. When in arms completely furnished, Passed that cry along the shore; And he answered, while the rifted Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, "I accept thy challenge, Thor!" III. THORA OF RIMOL. "THORA of Rimol! hide me! hide me! Danger and shame and death betide me! For Olaf the King is hunting me down Through field and forest, through thorp and town!" Thus cried Jarl Hakon To Thora, the fairest of women. "Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee Neither shall shame nor death come near thee! But the hiding-place wherein thou must lie Is the cave underneath the swine in the sty." Thus to Jarl Hakon Said Thora, the fairest of women. So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker, Crouched in the cave, than a dungeon darker, Y As Olaf came riding, with men in mail, Through the forest roads into Orkadale, Demanding Jarl Hakon Of Thora, the fairest of women. "Rich and honoured shall be whoever The head of Hakon Jarl shall dissever!" Hakon heard him, and Karker the slave, Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. Alone in her chamber Wept Thora, the fairest of women. Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee! For all the King's gold I will never betray thee!"` "Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl, And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. More pale and more faithful Was Thora, the fairest of women. From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, "Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying!" And Hakon answered, the King! "Beware of He will lay round thy neck a blood-red But Olaf the King had sued for her hand, The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned. Her maidens were seated around her knee, Working bright figures in tapestry. And one was singing the ancient rune Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. And through it, and round it, and over it all Sounded incessant the waterfall. The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, From the door of Ladé's Temple old. King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift, But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift. She had given the ring to her gold smiths twain, The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, She only murmured, she did not speak : "If in his gifts he can faithless be, There will be no gold in his love to me." A footstep was heard on the outer stair, And in strode King Olaf with royal air. He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love, And swore to be true as the stars are above. But she smiled with contempt as she answered: "O King, Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?" And the King: "O speak not of Odin to me, The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be." Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows." Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom, He rose in his anger and strode through the room. "Why, then, should I care to have thee?" he said, "A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!" His zeal was stronger than fear or love, And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled, And the wooden stairway shook with his tread. Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, "This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!" Heart's dearest, Why dost thou sorrow so? V. THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS. Now from all King Olaf's farms Gathered on the Eve of Easter ; |