Classic Poem

FRITHIOF .

Oh Biorn, I am weary of wave and of wind,
For restless and faithless companions are they
To the hills of the north ever wanders my mind,
Ah! could I once more those dear regions survey!
Thrice happy is he, who his home ne'er hath left,
And daily the tombs of his forefathers sees
Alas! of each pleasure and comfort bereft,
I rove a sad exile on wide rolling seas.

BIORN .

Nay! blame not the sea! 'tis a life full of motion,
And on its broad bosom dwell freedom and joy
When we gaily disport on the white foaming ocean,
Nor dangers affright us, nor sorrows annoy.
But when I grow old, and no longer am able
To reef, or shift sail, or to brandish the sword,
Then tether me tight on the dry land so stable,
But now I love fighting and drinking on board.

FRITHIOF .

But lo! by our keel freeze the waves, and a mass
Of ice closing round us, will chain us to land.
I fain would avoid the long winter to pass
'Midst these wild dreary cliffs, on this desolate strand.
Once more to keep Jul in the north I would fly,
To visit king Ring and his consort so dear
Once more to behold her bright love-beaming eye;
Once more her soft soul-thrilling accents to hear.

BIORN .

Good; I now understand thee; old Ring soon shall learn
That a Viking's revenge is no infantine play
His palace assailing at midnight, we'll burn
The grey-beard, and bear his fair consort away.
Or perhaps to that chief, from respect to his age,
To a fight on the Holmgang the choice thou wouldst leave,
Whate'er thy resolve, say the word! I'll engage
To execute all that thy brain may conceive.

FRITHIOF .

Ah! talk not of slaughter, or wide-wasting flame!
To visit that chieftain in peace will I go;
For neither are Ring nor his consort to blame,
The Asas alone are the cause of my woe.
But little have I on the earth more to hope;
I would merely once more bid my darling adieu,
For ever adieu; and when roses shall ope
Their chalice again, we'll our courses renew.

BIORN .

This madness, O Frithiof, it grieves me to hear;
For a frail woman's love why thus sicken and sigh?
If one thou hast lost, there are thousands as fair,
Who with joy to the arms of a hero would fly.
Say the word! and I'll quickly set sail to the south,
To fetch thee a cargo of soft willing dames,
Each with fine rosy cheeks, and a sweet smiling mouth,
And with eyes that the coldest would kindle to flames.

FRITHIOF .

O Biorn! as a god thou art valiant in war,
And prudent in council, frank, joyous and free;
Thou art skill'd in the science of Odin and Thor,
But unknown is the heavenly Freya to thee.
Ah! let us not thus to the gods bid defiance;
To that goddess 'bove all let us humbly incline
For sooner or later, with lowly compliance
Both Asas and men own her power divine.

BIORN .

Go not singly! mayhap thou returnest no more.

FRITHIOF .

Not singly I go; — my good sword goes with me.

BIORN .

Hast thou heard what befell the brave Hagbarth of yore?

FRITHIOF .

I have, he was taken and hang'd on a tree;
But first let them take me.

BIORN .

Well then, brother dear,
Should'st thou fall, my revenge the old king shall pursue.

FRITHIOF .

Nay, fear not! the crow of the cock Ring shall hear
No longer than I. Fosterbrother, adieu!