“Now I counsel each noble woman’s son,
He in honour’s courses guide him,
With his equals dwell in the land, for well
With all will that land provide him.
“For many a day and many a year
I’ve plundered, as every one knoweth;
But what we win with injustice and sin
With shame and sorrow goeth.
“A Count was I, of Erling’s race,
O’er Timsberg’s rich fief I lorded;
That filled me with pride, and my will I would have,
Though my will with no law accorded.
“First, first on all who my hate had won
I murders foul committed;
Then to wife and maid no respect I paid,
But shamefully them I treated.
“From the needy citizen his goods
And his life besides I’ve riven;
Widow and orphans my deeds bemoan,
And for vengeance cry to heaven.
“Lord God to me kind and clement be,
And grant me this petition:
Let me gain, when this death of shame I’ve thol’d,
Into endless life admission.”
LITTLE DANNEVED AND SWAYNE TROST.
“O what shall I in Denmark do?
To bear your armour I’m too weak;
The Danish warriors jeer at me,
Because their tongue I cannot speak.”
It was the young Danneved,
He bade them saddle his courser grey:
“O I will ride to Borrebye,
And a visit to my mother pay.”
O clinking were his spurs so keen,
And swiftly sped his horse along;
At Lundy Kirk in Skaaney land
He stopped to hear the matin song.