Wrenching the knotted steel that locks his limbs, And shriek on shriek divides the solitudes. The ocean roars; and, under toppling skies, The mountains avalanche from pine-pierced sides Their centuries of snow. Then all the night Once more is filled with silence and with sighs. WAR-SONG OF HARALD THE RED _And this is the song of battle, they sang to the thrash of the oars, As the prows of their shield-hung dragons were driven along the shores_:-- On to the battle! Yo ho for the slaughter! Hark to the grind of the oars that thunder! Clash of the prows as they crash through the water, Hurl through the foam of the seas they sunder! Up with the axe! and drive through the bristling Beaks of the foe that our iron has broken! On through the sleet of the shafts that are whistling, Arrows of ash, in a wedge that is oaken. By the eye of Odin! whose frown is war, Think of the vikings' daughters, who wear Gold on their hips! to hale by the hair, Gold-bound, red as the beard of Thor! Virgins, whose bodies, white-bosomed, are For rape and ransom!--A kingdom's ravish Yours! for the sweat and the blood you lavish. Hark! on the shore how his fierce fangs clamor! Ocean's, whose rocks are hungry for carrion:-- Ho! 'tis a sound as of swords that hammer Helms to the brazen snarl of the clarion.... On to the revel of war, my bullies, Blades, that fury like fire to battle! On to the banquet, through spray that gullies, Bray of the beaks and the oars' wild rattle! When prow grinds prow and the arrows hail, Think! were it better with hollow-eyed Hel To rot with cowards? or boast and yell Hoarse toasts over skulls of the boisterous ale High in Valhalla where heroes dwell? In vast Valhalla, where life wends well! The warrior vault of whose shields with curses Rings to the roar of the Berserk verses! YULE Behold! in the night there was storm; and the rushing of snow and of sleet; And the boom of the sea and the moaning of pines in its desolate beat. And the hall of fierce Erick of Sogn with the clamor of wassail was filled, With the clash of great beakers of gold and the reek of the ale that was spilled. For the Yule was upon them, the Yule; and they quaffed as from skulls of the slain, And shouted loud oaths in hoarse wit, and long quaffing swore laughing again. Unharnessed from each shaggy throat, that was hot with brute lust and with drink, Each burly wild skin and barbaric tossed, rent from the gold of its link. For the Yule was upon them, the Yule, and the _waesheils_ were shouted and roared By the Berserks, the eaters of fire, and the Jarls round the ponderous board.