"Death be to the evil-doer!" With an oath King Olaf spoke; Straight the master-builder, smiling, Then he chipped and smoothed the planking, Than she was before!" Seventy ells and four extended On the grass the vessel's keel; Then they launched her from the tressels, She was the grandest of all vessels, The Long Serpent was she christened, 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! They who to the Saga listened Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting XIV. THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT. SAFE at anchor in Drontheim bay And, striped with white and blue, Downward fluttered sail and banner, As alights the screaming lanner; Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, The Long Serpent's crew. Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; Near him Kolbiorn had his place, By the bulkhead, tall and dark, Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted Einar Tamberskelver, bare Graceful was his form, and slender, In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork Shoulders broad, and chests expanded, Tugging at the oar. These, and many more like these, Till the waters vast Filled them with a vague devotion, And the sounding blast. When they landed from the fleet, How they roared through Drontheim's street, Boisterous as the gale! How they laughed and stamped and pounded, Till the tavern roof resounded, And the host looked on astounded As they drank the ale! Never saw the wild North Sea Sail its billows blue! Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, Boasted such a crew! 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 a sorrowful bride went she, And flee away from each other. They say, that through heat and through cold, Through weald, they say, and through wold, By day and by night, they say, She has fled; and the gossips report She has come to King Olaf's court, And the town is all in dismay. Hoist up your sails of silk, And flee away from each other. Longfellow, III, 6 |