Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
King Olafs Christmas
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (18071882)A
Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring,
As he sat in his banquet-hall,
Drinking the nut-brown ale,
With his bearded Berserks hale
And tall.
He held with Bishops and Priests,
And his horn filled up to the brim;
But the ale was never too strong,
Nor the Saga-man’s tale too long,
For him.
He made of the cross divine,
As he drank, and muttered his prayers;
But the Berserks evermore
Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor
Over theirs.
Upon helmet and hauberk and lance,
And laugh in the eyes of the King;
And he cries to Halfred the Scald,
Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald,
“Sing!”
With a sword in every line,
And this shall be thy reward.”
And he loosened the belt at his waist,
And in front of the singer placed
His sword.
Wherewith at a stroke he hewed
The millstone through and through,
And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong,
Were neither so broad nor so long,
Nor so true.”
And loud through the music rang
The sound of that shining word;
And the harp-strings a clangor made,
As if they were struck with the blade
Of a sword.
Broke forth into a shout
That made the rafters ring:
They smote with their fists on the board,
And shouted, “Long live the Sword,
And the King!”
I miss the bright word in one
Of thy measures and thy rhymes.”
And Halfred the Scald replied,
“In another ’t was multiplied
Three times.”
Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt,
And said, “Do not refuse;
Count well the gain and the loss,
Thor’s hammer or Christ’s cross:
Choose!”
In the name of the Lord I kiss,
Who on it was crucified!”
And a shout went round the board,
“In the name of Christ the Lord,
Who died!”
The noonday sun uprose,
Through the driving mists revealed,
Like the lifting of the Host,
By incense-clouds almost
Concealed.
And shadowy cross was cast
From the hilt of the lifted sword,
And in foaming cups of ale
The Berserks drank “Was-hael!
To the Lord!”