XX.

KING RING'S DEATH.

Golden mane flowing, Skinfaxe duteous Draweth the spring sun more bright than before; Morning beams glowing Doubly as beauteous, Sport in the hall;--there's a knock at the door.

Though his heart grieveth, Enters the stranger; Pale sits the king, while the queen's gentle breast Billow-like heaveth; Singeth the ranger A song of departure, with sorrow oppressed.

"Bathes now the billow Winged steed flying, Sea-horse is longing to flee from the strand; Glad will he follow Him who is hieing Far from his home and his well beloved land.

"The arm-ring I give thee, Ing'borg, receive it. Holiest memories with it remain. Ne'er let it leave thee: Fridthjof, believe me Truly forgives. Thou'lt not see him again.

"No more beholding The smoke's upward motion Northland I'll see. Truly man is a slave; Fate is unyielding; Far on the ocean There is my fatherland, there is my grave.

"When in your roaming Stars the vault cover, Go not with Ingeborg down to the strand; Lest in the gloaming You should discover Fridthjof, the outlawed, cast up on the sand."

"Sad is the hearing," Ring said, replying, "When a man moans like a weak maiden's sigh. Valhal is nearing, E'en now the sighing Death song I hear. Every mortal must die.

"No one can frighten, Or by complaining Change the allotment the norns have set down; Sorrow thou'lt lighten O'er the land reigning,-- Take thou my queen, for my son guard the crown.

"True is it spoken, Loved and respected Peaceful I've reigned, over mountain and vale; Yet have I broken Shields, unprotected, Landward and seaward, without turning pale.

"Now shall the bleeding Geirs-odd relieve me,-- Dying in bed ill befits Northland's kings; Not worth my heeding, Death shall receive me,-- Life's pain is equal to that which death brings."

Then carved he rightly Letters all glowing,-- Death runes to Odin on arm and on chest; Shine now so brightly Blood-drops o'erflowing, Dyeing the silvery hair on his breast.

"Bring for my drinking The horn with wine flowing; Skoal to thy honor, thou land of my birth! Minds deeply thinking, Harvest fields growing,-- Peaceful exploits have I loved on the earth.

"Vain amid slaughter Bloody and daring, Sought I for peace,--she fled in dismay. Now the mild daughter Of heaven appearing, Beckons me hence to Valhal away.

"Hail ye immortals! Sons of high heaven! Earth disappears; Gjallarhorn to a feast Opens the portals; By the gods given, Blessedness crowns as a helmet the guest!"

Speaking intently, Ing'borg's hand loyal, Also his son's, and his friend's, too, he pressed; Eyelids close gently,-- Spirit so royal Flies with a sigh to the Allfather's breast.