The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III, IV, V, VI. |
 | VII. |
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| VIII. |
| XIV. |
| XVII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXIII. |
| XLIII. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | CHAPTER XVII. OF GRETTIR'S VOYAGE OUT. The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
33
CHAPTER XVII. OF GRETTIR'S VOYAGE OUT.
34
[“Rider of wind-driven steed]
[Grettir.]“Rider of wind-driven steed,
Little gat I to my need,
When I left my fair birth-stead,
From the snatchers of worm's bed;
But this man's-bane hanging here,
Gift of woman good of cheer,
Proves the old saw said not ill:
Best to bairn is mother still.”
[“Good luck, scurvy starvelings, if I should behold]
[Grettir.]“Good luck, scurvy starvelings, if I should behold
Each finger ye have doubled up with the cold.”
35
[“Otherwise would matters be]
[Grettir.]“Otherwise would matters be,
When this shouting Haflidi
Ate in house at Reydarfell
Curdled milk, and deemed it well;
36
That 'twixt ness and ness doth glide,
Twice in one day had his fill
Of the feast of dart shower shrill.”
This is about as obscure as the original, which seems to allude to some event not mentioned in the Saga.
[“Grettir, stand up from thy grave]
“Grettir, stand up from thy grave,
In the trough of the grey wave
The keel labours, tell my say
Now unto thy merry may;
From thy hands the linen-clad
Fill of sewing now has had,
Till we make the land will she
Deem that labour fitteth thee.”
In the trough of the grey wave
The keel labours, tell my say
Now unto thy merry may;
From thy hands the linen-clad
Fill of sewing now has had,
Till we make the land will she
Deem that labour fitteth thee.”
Then Grettir stood up and sang:
“Stand we up, for neath us now
Rides the black ship high enow;
This fair wife will like it ill
If my limbs are laid here still;
Certes, the white trothful one
Will not deem the deed well done,
If the work that I should share
Other folk must ever bear.”
Rides the black ship high enow;
37
If my limbs are laid here still;
Certes, the white trothful one
Will not deem the deed well done,
If the work that I should share
Other folk must ever bear.”
| CHAPTER XVII. OF GRETTIR'S VOYAGE OUT. The Collected Works of William Morris | |