The mountains avalanche from pine-pierced sides
Their centuries of snow. Then all the night
Once more is filled with silence and with sighs.
WAR-SONG OF HARALD THE RED
And this is the song of battle, they sang to the thrash of the oars,
As the prows of their shield-hung dragons were driven along the shores:—
On to the battle! Yo ho for the slaughter!
Hark to the grind of the oars that thunder!