Thousands full fierce, that summer’s day,
Filled keen war’s black intent.
Let Scots, while Scots, praise Hardyknute;
Let Norse the name aye dread;
Aye how he foucht, aft how he spared,
Sall latest ages read.”
Here the story might seem to end, and here perhaps it was intended at first that it should end; but in the completer copies there are three more stanzas, taking us back to Hardyknute’s castle on the high hill. We are to fancy Hardyknute and his sons returning joyfully thither after the great victory:—
“Loud and chill blew the westlin wind,
Sair beat the heavy shower;
Mirk grew the nicht ere Hardyknute