With the stormy-rolled music of an hundred wild harps made the castle reëchoing ring.
For the Yule, for the Yule was upon them, and battle and rapine were o'er;
And Harald, the viking, the red, and his brother lay dead on the shore.
For the harrier, Harald the red, and his merciless brother, black Ulf,
With their men on the shore of the wintery sea were carrion cold for the wolf.
Behold! for the battle was ended; the battle that clamored all day,
With the rumble of shields that were shocked and of spears that were splintered like spray:
With the hewing of swords that fierce-lightened like flames and that smoked with hot blood,
And the crush of the mace that was hammered through helm and through brain that withstood:
And the cursing and howling of men at their gods,—at their gods whom they cursed,