It was bold Orm Ungerswayne,
He grasped his faulchion’s hilt:
“In vengeance for my father then
Shall valiant blood be spilt.”
It was the bold Orm Ungerswayne
He drew his trusty sword,
And at a single blow smote off
The head of Valland’s Tord.
Valland’s Tord he slew, and then
His followers every one;
Then speeds he to the monarch’s house
To claim the maid he’d won.
Then took the bold Orm Ungerswayne
The Atheling in his arm:
“Thou art my own, fair maid, for thee
I have confronted harm.”
O’er Helmer Isle the tidings run
As fast as levin fire,
That Orm the lovely maid has won,
And has avenged his sire.
* * * * *
London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
Edition limited to thirty Copies.