COMPLAINT OF HARALD.

My gallant ship a rich freight bore Around Sicilia’s tideless shore; Laden with gold and warriors brave With rapid keel she ploughed the wave; We woo’d the fresh’ning breeze in vain— I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain! Strong in the pride of youthful might, Stern Drontheim’s troops I quelled in fight; Dire was the conflict, ’mid the throng, While pealed the war shouts loud and long: I slew their chieftain;—still in vain I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain! I’ve stemmed the troublous ocean’s tide, And met the tempest in its pride; When darkly scowled the foaming deep, My bark has cleft the billows’ sweep. Full dangerous were my toils and vain; I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain! With graceful arm I rein the steed, Unmatched in courage as in speed I skim the ice; and dextrous wield The dripping oar, and lance and shield. I forge the weapon; yet in vain I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain! I’m skilled to lead the hunter’s chase, Each Runic character I trace; I bear the gift of godlike fire, To wake the glories of the lyre. Its magic chords but speak in vain; I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain! Stern Norway’s highlands claim my birth; My arms have conquered Southern earth. In desert wilds my banners play, And the wide seas confess my sway. A reckless victor still in vain I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain!