With a peal of mocking laughter, off[970] she bounded like a hind,
And her loosened yellow tresses fluttered gayly in the wind,
While the lad, abashed, bewildered, strolled away[971] with burning ears
To compose his wounded feelings and escape his comrades’ jeers.
Now a gallant lad was Halvor, who in storm and billows’ roar
Oft had steered his skiff securely close beneath[972] the rocky shore,
And the thought within him rankled, with a dull and gnawing pain,
That a little maid had smote him whom he could not smite again.
And the dimpled face of Thora haunted him by night and day;
He was sure that he must love her, for his wrath had flown away;[973]