Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.

Tales of a Wayside Inn

Part First. The Musician’s Tale: The Saga of King Olaf. II. King Olaf’s Return

AND King Olaf heard the cry,

Saw the red light in the sky,

Laid his hand upon his sword,

As he leaned upon the railing,

And his ships went sailing, sailing

Northward into Drontheim fiord.

There he stood as one who dreamed;

And the red light glanced and gleamed

On the armor that he wore;

And he shouted, as the rifted

Streamers o’er him shook and shifted,

“I accept thy challenge, Thor!”

To avenge his father slain,

And reconquer realm and reign,

Came the youthful Olaf home,

Through the midnight sailing, sailing,

Listening to the wild wind’s wailing,

And the dashing of the foam.

To his thoughts the sacred name

Of his mother Astrid came,

And the tale she oft had told

Of her flight by secret passes

Through the mountains and morasses,

To the home of Hakon old.

Then strange memories crowded back

Of Queen Gunhild’s wrath and wrack,

And a hurried flight by sea;

Of grim Vikings, and the rapture

Of the sea-fight, and the capture,

And the life of slavery.

How a stranger watched his face

In the Esthonian market-place,

Scanned his features one by one,

Saying, “We should know each other;

I am Sigurd, Astrid’s brother,

Thou art Olaf, Astrid’s son!”

Then as Queen Allogia’s page,

Old in honors, young in age,

Chief of all her men-at-arms;

Till vague whispers, and mysterious,

Reached King Valdemar, the imperious,

Filling him with strange alarms.

Then his cruisings o’er the seas,

Westward to the Hebrides

And to Scilly’s rocky shore;

And the hermit’s cavern dismal,

Christ’s great name and rites baptismal

In the ocean’s rush and roar.

All these thoughts of love and strife

Glimmered through his lurid life,

As the stars’ intenser light

Through the red flames o’er him trailing,

As his ships went sailing, sailing

Northward in the summer night.

Trained for either camp or court,

Skilful in each manly sport,

Young and beautiful and tall;

Art of warfare, craft of chases,

Swimming, skating, snow-shoe races,

Excellent alike in all.

When at sea, with all his rowers,

He along the bending oars

Outside of his ship could run.

He the Smalsor Horn ascended,

And his shining shield suspended

On its summit, like a sun.

On the ship-rails he could stand,

Wield his sword with either hand,

And at once two javelins throw;

At all feasts where ale was strongest

Sat the merry monarch longest,

First to come and last to go.

Norway never yet had seen

One so beautiful of mien,

One so royal in attire,

When in arms completely furnished,

Harness gold-inlaid and burnished,

Mantle like a flame of fire.

Thus came Olaf to his own,

When upon the night-wind blown

Passed that cry along the shore;

And he answered, while the rifted

Streamers o’er him shook and shifted,

“I accept thy challenge, Thor!”