CHAPTER XVII. OF GRETTIR'S VOYAGE OUT.
[“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.”
[“Otherwise would matters be]
[Grettir.]
“Otherwise would matters be,
When this shouting Haflidi
Ate in house at Reydarfell
Curdled milk, and deemed it well;
He who decks the reindeer's side
That 'twixt ness and ness doth glide,
Twice in one day had his fill
Of the feast of dart shower shrill.”
[“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.”
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.”
