Tommy received the chastisement in a very frantic manner, uttering the loudest protestations. When the lashes had been given he crept away, hardly lifting his eyes. The people of Natick were slow to forget the old chief’s methods with witnesses who were found in bad company, and who “shouldn’t have been there.” LEGEND OF NORTHMEN’S ROCK.[5] (Thorfin, 1007.) Have you heard it—the Northmen’s Rune of the Rose In the climes of the sunbeams pale? ’Twas—Far from the night of the six months’ snows Went the barque of the silver sail. ’Twas—Far from the lands of the frozen fens Lay the lands of the sunshine clear, And Thorfin followed the osprey’s pens, With his bride from Fiord Fere, To the land of the lily and rose, To the land where the wild woods sing; Oh, happy the bride of the North, who goes On the barque of the silver wing! The palace a pile of crystal shone, And its ice walls were mingled with fire, And minstrels sat round the mailed throne, With red torch, the saga and lyre. “I have married a wife,” said Thorfin, young, “And my bride is tender and fair; And I’ve heard the tale by the minstrels sung, Of the land of the golden air, Of the land of the lily and rose, Of the land where the sun-birds sing, Where the purple vine of the wined grape grows, And the winters are bright with spring. “My crystal sails in the silver mist, I will lift where the warm winds play, And over the seas of amethyst, I will bear my bride away Far over the sea-road Eric the Red, Past Helluland the fair, To the pine-plumed mountain that lifts its head In the land of the golden air; To the land of the lily and rose. The land where the sun-birds sing, Where the purple vine of the wined grape grows, And the winters are bright with spring.” From the fiords white moved the lateen sail, From the fiords white and gray, Where the nights are fire and the sun is pale, And snow-mists veil the day. “Farewell” sang the bards in the crystal halls, To the barque of Thorfin fair. “We still will sing at the festivals Of the land of the golden air; Of the land of the lily and rose, The land where the sun-birds sing; Oh, happy the bride of the North that goes On the barque of the silver wing.”