The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
3
CHAPTER III
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
5
[“What joy since that day can I get]
[Onund.]“What joy since that day can I get
When shield-fire's thunder last I met;
Ah, too soon clutch the claws of ill;
For that axe-edge shall grieve me still.
In eyes of fighting man and thane,
My strength and manhood are but vain,
This is the thing that makes me grow
A joyless man; is it enow?”
6
CHAPTER IV
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
8
[“Yea, seest thou thy wide wounds bleed?]
[Onund.]“Yea, seest thou thy wide wounds bleed?
What of shrinking didst thou heed
In the one-foot sling of gold?
What scratch here dost thou behold?
And in e'en such wise as this
Many an axe-breaker there is
Strong of tongue and weak of hand:
Tried thou wert, and mightst not stand.”
13
CHAPTER VIII
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
[“Meet was I in days agone]
[Onund.]“Meet was I in days agone
For storm, wherein the Sweeping One,
Midst rain of swords, and the darts' breath,
Blew o'er all a gale of death.
Now a maimed, one-footed man
On rollers' steed through waters wan
Out to Iceland must I go;
Ah, the skald is sinking low.”
14
CHAPTER IX
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
[“Brand-whetter's life awry doth go.]
[Onund.]“Brand-whetter's life awry doth go.
Fair lands and wide full well I know;
Past house, and field, and fold of man
The swift steed of the rollers ran:
My lands and kin I left behind,
That I this latter day might find,
Coldback for sunny meads to have;
Hard fate a bitter bargain drave.”
15
CHAPTER XI
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
18
[“The brave men of days of old]
“The brave men of days of old,Whereof many a tale is told,
Bathed the whiting of the shield,
In wounds' house on battle-field;
But the honour-missing fool,
Both sides of his slaying tool,
Since faint heart his hand made vain,
With but curdled milk must stain.”
CHAPTER XII
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
20
[Song of the meeting of the Fore-fathers of Grettir.]
“At Rib-skerries, I hear folk tell,A hard and dreadful fray befell,
For men unarmed upon that day
With strips of whale-fat made good play.
Fierce steel-gods these in turn did meet
With blubber-slices nowise sweet;
Certes a wretched thing it is
To tell of squabbles such as this.”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |