The town's unchanged
Since child I trod it;
The wind sends hither
The snarling sea-hounds.
--What flaming thunder
From thousand voices!
Steel-weapons redden
With stains of warfare!
The shields are clashing!
See, sand-clouds rising,
Speer-billows rolling
Round Tambarskelve!
Hard is his fortune!--
Oh, faithless Harald:
Death's ravens roving
Ride o'er thy ting-peace!
Fetch forth the wagon,
Drive to the fighting!
At home to cower
Would cost my life now.
(On the way)
O yeomen, yield not,
Circle and save him!
Eindride, aid now
Thine aged father!
Build a shield-bulwark
For him bow-bending!
Death has no allies
Like Einar's arrows!
And thou, Saint Olaf,
Oh, for thy son's sake!
Help him with good words
In Gimle's high hall!
( Nearer )
Our foes are the stronger ...
They fight now no longer ...
Subduing,
Pursuing,
They press to the river,--
What is it that's done?
What makes me thus quiver?
Will fortune us shun?
What stillness astounding!
The peasants are staying,
Their lances now grounding,
Two dead men surrounding,
Nor Harald delaying!
What throngs now enwall
The ting-hall's high door! .
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