Appeased, with friendly feeling,
The portals they pass through,
And here from floor to ceiling,
To Fridthjof all was new.
Rough planks well matched together
Lined not the spacious hall,
But 'broidered golden leather
Was stretched along the wall.
The center was not littered
By mortared hearthstone wide;
A marble fireplace glittered,
Built up against the side.
No smoke 'mid rafters flitted,
No roof with soot spread o'er;
Glass panes the windows fitted,
A lock secured the door.
No woollen torches crackling,
Illumed the champions' feast,
But waxen candles, sparkling,
In silver sconces placed.
A roasted stag, well larded,
The table's center graced;
Gold bands his raised hoof guarded,
With flowers his horns were dressed.
Beside each champion sitting,
A youthful maiden stood,—
An evening star, bright flitting,
Behind a stormy cloud
The blue eyes beamed, in showers
The gold-brown tresses flowed,
Complete as sculptured flowers
The little rose-lips glowed.
On silver stool, high mounted,
Sat Angantyr, the old;
His helm shot rays uncounted,
His corselet was of gold.
His mantle, rich and splendid,
With golden stars was strewn,—
And where the purple ended,
The spotless ermine shone,
Three steps the earl descended
To Fridthjof genially
He said, with hand extended:
"Come higher, sit by me.
Of horns I've emptied many
With Thorstein in his day;
His son, more famed than any,
Shall not sit far away."
He filled each goblet brimming
With wine from Sicily,—
Like sparks of fire 'twas gleaming,
And foaming like the sea.
"Welcome!" exclaimed the speaker,
"My friend's most worthy son!
To Thorstein fill a beaker,—
And drink now, every one!"
Now woke the harpstring's slumbers,
A skald from Morven's hills,
In Gaul's melodious numbers,
Sad hero-songs he trills.
But Thorstein's praise was chanted
In old Norwayan tongue;
His noble deeds were vaunted,
His daring valor snug.
The earl asked much concerning
His friends of days gone by;
In words replete with learning
Young Fridthjof made reply.
A judgment given blindly,
Swift accusation brings,
He spoke like Saga, kindly,
Remembering holy things.