From the prow Saint Oluf a barb shot free,
Behind the Ox fell the shaft in the sea.
Saint Oluf he trusted In Christ alone,
And therefore home by three days he won.
That made Harald with fury storm,
Of a laidly dragon he took the form.
But the Saint was a man of devotion full,
And the Saint gat Norroway’s land to rule.
Into the Church Saint Oluf strode,
He thanked the Saviour in fervent mode.
Saint Oluf walked the Church about,
There shone a glory his ringlets out.
Whom God doth help makes bravely his way,
His enemies win but shame and dismay.
TO SCRIBBLERS [30]
Would it not be more dignified
To run up debts on every side,
And then to pay your debts refuse,
Than write for rascally Reviews?
And lectures give to great and small,
In pothouse, theatre, and town-hall,
Wearing your brains by night and day
To win the means to pay your way?
I vow by him who reigns in [hell],
It would be more respectable!