"Down the Fjord sweep wind and rain,
Our stout ship's sails and tackle strain;
Wet to the skin.
We're sound within,
And gaily o'er the waves are dancing,
Our sea-steed o'er the waves high prancing!
Through Lister sea
Flying all free;
Off from the wind with swelling sail,
We merrily scud before the gale,
And reach the sound
Where we were bound.
And now our ship, so gay and grand,
Glides past the green and lovely land,
And at the isle
Moors for a while.
Our horse-hoofs now leave hasty print;
We ride--of ease there's scanty stint--
In heat and haste
O'er Gautland's waste:
Though in a hurry to be married,
The king can't say that we have tarried."
One evening late they were riding through Gautland, and Sigvat made
these verses:--
"The weary horse will at nightfall
Gallop right well to reach his stall;
When night meets day, with hasty hoof
He plies the road to reach a roof.
Far from the Danes, we now may ride
Safely by stream or mountain-side;
But, in this twilight, in some ditch
The horse and rider both may pitch."
They rode through the merchant town of Skara, and down the street to the
earl's house. He sang:--
"The shy sweet girls, from window high
In wonder peep at the sparks that fly
From our horses heels, as down the street
Of the earl's town we ride so fleet.
Spur on!--that every pretty lass
May hear our horse-hoofs as we pass
Clatter upon the stones so hard,
And echo round the paved court-yard."