To shed his blood will ne'er grudge one;
On such may Heaven's wrath descend!
Peasants from Vaage, Lesje, Lom,
With axes sharp on shoulder set,
To parley with the Scots are come,
And now at Bredebygd are met.
There runs a path by mountain side
Which our vale-folk do Kringlen call,
And Laugen's stream beneath doth glide,—
In that shall our fierce foemen fall.