"They fought in the sun, they fought in the wind, No boot the white fowl's wounds to bind.

"They fought in the wind, they fought in the sun, And the white fowl died when the play was done."

"Small tidings these to bear o'er the sea!

Good hap that nothing worser they be!

"Small tidings for a travelled man!

Drink with me, son, whiles yet ye can!

"Drink with me ere thy day and mine, _So fair upriseth the rim of the sun_, Be nought but a tale told over the wine."

_So grey is the sea when day is done_.

Now fareth the King with his men to sleep, _So fair upriseth the rim of the sun_, And dim the maids from the Queen's bower creep, _So grey is the sea when day is done_.

And in the hall is little light, And there standeth the Queen with cheeks full white.

And soft the feet of women fall From end to end of the King's great hall.

These bear the gold-wrought cloths away, And in other wise the hall array;

Till all is black that hath been gold So heavy a tale there must be told.

The morrow men looked on King Gorm and said "Hath he dreamed a dream or beheld the dead?

"Why is he sad who should be gay?

Why are the old man's lips so grey?"

Slow paced the King adown the hall, Nor looked aside to either wall,

Till in high-seat there he sat him down, And deadly old men deemed him grown.

"O Queen, what thrall's hands durst do this, To strip my hall of mirth and bliss?"

"No thrall's hands in the hangings were, No thrall's hands made the tenters bare.

"King's daughters' hands have done the deed, The hands of Denmark's Surety-head."

"Nought betters the deed thy word unsaid.

Tell me that Knut my son is dead!"

She said: "The doom on thee, O King!

For thine own lips have said the thing."

Men looked to see the King arise, The death of men within his eyes.

Men looked to see his bitter sword That once cleared ships from board to board.

But in the hall no sword gleamed wide, His hand fell down along his side.

No red there came into his cheek, He fell aback as one made weak.

His wan cheek brushed the high-seat's side, And in the noon of day he died.

So lieth King Gorm beneath the gra.s.s, But from mouth to mouth this tale did pa.s.s.

And Harald reigned and went his way, _So fair upriseth the rim of the sun_.

And still is the story told to-day, _So grey is the sea when day is done_.

ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS.

_Puellae_.

Whence comest thou, and whither goest thou?

Abide! abide! longer the shadows grow; What hopest thou the dark to thee will show?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

Why should I name the land across the sea Wherein I first took hold on misery?

Why should I name the land that flees from me?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

What wilt thou do within the desert place Whereto thou turnest now thy careful face?

Stay but a while to tell us of thy case.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

What, nigh the journey's end shall I abide, When in the waste mine own love wanders wide, When from all men for me she still doth hide?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Nay, nay; but rather she forgetteth thee, To sit upon the sh.o.r.e of some warm sea, Or in green gardens where sweet fountains be.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.