It was our Norroway Hacon then
Thereat so sorely troubled grew:
“I’m missing one, my Andfindson,
Why meets not Olaf his father’s view?”
Then answer’d him the little footboy,
As apart he stood from the Norway King:
“Beneath the deck lies Olaf sick,
And much I fear he’s suffering.”
It was Hacon the Norway King
To visit Olaf with speed he goes:
“What cheer, what cheer, my Olaf dear?
Thy state to thy father straight disclose.”
“I feel no rest within my breast,
Methinks my very heart will rend:
Would God, the King of all, would bring
This horrible night to a speedy end.”
They watched o’er Olaf Andfindson,
They watched o’er Olaf long nights twain;
And Hacon I say, of Norroway,
By watching thus his death did gain.
It was Olaf Andfindson,
He yielded up his gentle sprite;
’Twas Hacon grey of Norroway
Before him held the big wax light.
O then King Hacon distrest he grew,
The stripling’s corse he would not leave:
He pin’d away and sick he lay,
His hoary Counsellors how they grieve.
“Cheer up,” they said. “We’ve fought and bled,
And almost won these foreign shores;
But if thou now from us should’st go
A sad and dreary fate were ours.”
“My time is come, I can’t survive;
Write ye my testament, I pray,
When I am gone do ye see done
What with my dying breath I say:
“My son, King Magnus, I advise
Ever the law of God to heed;
Justice above all things to love,
And well, full well, with him ’twill speed.