Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
King Olaf’s War-Horns
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)“S
“Never shall men of mine take flight;
Never away from battle I fled,
Never away from my foes!
Let God dispose
Of my life in the fight!”
And suddenly through the drifting brume
The blare of the horns began to ring,
Like the terrible trumpet shock
Of Regnarock,
On the Day of Doom!
Over the level floor of the flood;
All the sails came down with a clang,
And there in the mist overhead
The sun hung red
As a drop of blood.
Three together the ships were lashed,
So that neither should turn and retreat;
In the midst, but in front of the rest
The burnished crest
Of the Serpent flashed.
With bow of ash and arrows of oak,
His gilded shield was without a fleck,
His helmet inlaid with gold,
And in many a fold
Hung his crimson cloak.
Watched the lashing of the ships;
“If the Serpent lie so far ahead,
We shall have hard work of it here,”
Said he with a sneer
On his bearded lips.
“Have I a coward on board?” said he.
“Shoot it another way, O King!”
Sullenly answered Ulf,
The old sea-wolf;
“You have need of me!”
Sweeping down with his fifty rowers;
To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes;
And on board of the Iron Beard
Earl Eric steered
To the left with his oars.
“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!”
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.
Sharper the dragons bite and sting!
Eric the son of Hakon Jarl
A death-drink salt as the sea
Pledges to thee,
Olaf the King!