I.
The King came home from battle,
He came in triumph proud;
Before, the heralds flying,
With trumpets pealing loud,
Ten thousand warriors followed,
With gleaming spear and shield,
A goodly store of trophies
Brought from the bloody field,
A forest bright of banners
Unfurled like tongues of flame,
And clanking ranks of captives
To swell the mighty train.
Beneath the arching gateway
And up the stony street,
To time of martial music,
Passed on the trampling feet;
But ever chief and foremost
The King in triumph rode;
His armor flashed in sunlight,
Gay-plumed his helmet glowed,
High stepped his coal-black charger,
Impatient of the rein,
And curved the sleek neck proudly
And shook the rippling mane.
More proud than he the rider—
In look and mien more proud;
Before, the heralds speeding
And trumpeting aloud
How Eric, the invader—
Long time a dreaded foe—
Lay with the gory corses
Upon the plain below;
And how of his great army
A paltry little band
In hopeless rout
Had turned about
And fled to their own land.
Quick, at the cry of herald
And clattering of hoof,
From door and wall and window,
From balcony and roof,
Black hung the crowd; with praises
Did all the city ring—
With praises for the warriors,
With praises for the King:—
So loud, the infant Gerda
Was wakened from her sleep,
And, writhing in her cradle,
Forsooth began to weep,
The while they praised her father
Till all the air did ring,
The while the people shouted,
“Forever live the King!”
There in the masonry,
Black space and then a stairway.—[Page 177.]