University of Virginia Library

Leave we the uproar and distress
Which Norway's chiefs could ill suppress;
And pass we over, for a while,
To Hynde, the flower of Albyn's isle,
Who saw, with joy ne'er felt before,
Her gallant champion Eiden More
Upraise his pale and wounded head,
Like beauteous phantom from the dead,
And wipe his bloody brow, and say
The faintness quite had pass'd away;
For untried armour wrought the harm,
And not the force of Eric's arm.