XX.

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER.

IT was Einar Tamberskelver

Stood beside the mast;

From his yew-bow, tipped with silver, Flew the arrows fast;

Aimed at Eric unavailing,

As he sat concealed,

Half behind the quarter-railing,

Half behind his shield.

First an arrow struck the tiller,

Just above his head;

"Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller,"

Then Earl Eric said.

"Sing the song of Hakon dying,

Sing his funeral wail!"

And another arrow flying

Grazed his coat of mail.

Turning to a Lapland yeoman,

As the arrow passed,

Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman

Standing by the mast."

Sooner than the word was spoken

Flew the yeoman's shaft;

Einar's bow in twain was broken,

Einar only laughed.

"What was that?" said Olaf, standing

On the quarter-deck.

"Something heard I like the stranding

Of a shattered wreck."

Einar then, the arrow taking

From the loosened string,

Answered, "That was Norway breaking

From thy hand, O king!"

"Thou art but a poor diviner,"

Straightway Olaf said;

"Take my bow, and swifter, Einar,
Let thy shafts be sped."

Of his bows the fairest choosing,.
Reached he from above;

Einar saw the blood-drops oozing
Through his iron glove.

But the bow was thin and narrow;

At the first assay,

O'er its head he drew the arrow,

Flung the bow away;

Said, with hot and angry temper

Flushing in his cheek,

"Olaf! for so great a Kämper

Are thy bows too weak!"

Then, with smile of joy defiant

On his beardless lip,

Scaled he, light and self-reliant,

Eric's dragon-ship.

Loose his golden locks were flowing,

Bright his armor gleamed;

Like Saint Michael overthrowing

Lucifer he seemed.

XXI.

KING OLAF'S DEATH-DRINK.

ALL day has the battle raged,
All day have the ships engaged,
But not yet is assuaged

The vengeance of Eric the Earl.

The decks with blood are red,

The arrows of death are sped,

The ships are filled with the dead, And the spears the champions hurl.

They drift as wrecks on the tide,
The grappling-irons are plied,
The boarders climb up the side,

The shouts are feeble and few.