Note 177 — Chapter I · DENMARK. (continued 3)

Haralld’s Saga ens Harfagra, cap. 18, 19. p. 93–95. The following is the ode of Hornkloft, as translated by the Hon. W. Herbert, and, in some trifling respects, improved by Mr. Wheaton:—

“Loud in Hafur’s echoing bay,

Heard ye the din of battle bray,

’Twixt Kiötve rich, and Harald bold?

Eastward sails the ships of war;

The graven bucklers gleam afar,

And dragons’ heads adorn the prows of gold.

“Glittering shields of purest white,

And swords, and Celtic falchions bright,

And western chiefs the vessels bring:

Loudly roar the wolfish rout,

And maddening champions wildly shout.

And long and loud the twisted hauberks ring.

“Firm in fight they proudly vie

With Him whose might will make them fly,

Of Eastmen kings the warlike head.

Forth his gallant fleet he drew,

Soon as the hope of battle grew,

But many a buckler brake ere Haklang bled.

“Fled the lusty Kiötve then

Before the Fair-haired king of Men,

And bade the islands shield his flight.

Warriors wounded in the fray,

Beneath the thwarts all gasping lay,

Where, headlong cast, they mourn’d the loss of light.

“Gall’d by many a massive stone

(Their golden shields behind them thrown),

Homeward the grieving warriors speed;

Swift from Hafur’s bay they hie:

East-mountaineers o’er Jardar fly,

And thirst for goblets of the sparkling mead.”