THE KING'S PRAYER

Now is at hand the great hour, the hour long-wished for,

Now shall the hammer

Clash with the cross, the faith with brute force and defi

ance,

The offering with covetous might.

Rage shall the battle

Perchance for a thousand years or more the land over,
The slain shall rise up again,

Quickly transforming each loss to a tenfold gain.
But the foe likewise —

They too are many ——

Shall also be born anew.

Lord, Thou canst see how I seek in Thy footsteps to follow.

Willed have I naught for myself, Thy throne I am building

Up from the stones that fell piece by piece from my own.
Thou seest, Lord,

How poor is the stuff I must use;
Sinful myself,

Half-tamed many who follow. . . .

Weak such foundation;

But with our blood

Shall we cement it on the field to-morrow;

Do not reject it,

New generations

Better shall build it.

Be Thou not angered that many but follow for my sake. Faith crave the many, but faith have only in what they

can see.

Scan not too closely!

Some strive for riches, others for fame or vengeance,
Many for me, only few understanding wherefore.
But for the few who would do Thy will,

Forgive the others;

Accept our cause, and in failure raise it to victory!

For all of my sins hitherto,

Hot-blooded, hard, lusting for power,

Forsake us not on the morrow,

Overlook them, my God, or hide them, till past is the hour,

Let me not on the morrow stand in Thy way!

Lord, Thou knowest our folk to its innermost being; Judge I awrong, when I trust in its noble endowment? Hitherto has it wasted its strength.

Lord, have mercy! When shall it waken in strength united? When shall my work have fruition ?

Violent hewed I my path; but my thought was:
Sharp must the blows be that fall on the forest primeval,

On trees with their hundreds, rocks with their thousands

of years,

Ere the field may be cleared for the seed,

Seed planted by love.

This is my thought, in sooth, and I rejoice

That the people now gather to battle, come in their fury, Come to join issue with Thee!

Battle shalt Thou have; for sparks from the steel bright flying

Kindle Thy fire, consuming things rotten, and lighting The world in the coming years.

Drive them to battle, with zeal my heart is flaming, Cast me upon the pyre, if thereby may the future races be lit!

Take to Thy clasp

That which perchance I yield up to-morrow;

Grant that my son

Foothold may find where I slipped!

TWELFTH SONG

THE ARMY AWAKENS

"Up, my warriors, to prayer, The sun is calling,

Greeting the chosen band

Which the Lord this day
Leads forth to battle.

Tormod Kolbrunarskald,

Lift up thy voice,

Build for the people a shining bridge
Stretching from peak to peak,

Build with thy lay

High over us and the vale

Visions in marching array

Of our forefathers forth-faring
To fight."

Tormod rose to his feet,

Heeding the call,

Drove in a rustling flight

Out over the sleeping host
Bjarkemaal's battle-clad maidens,

The air was filled with their spears,
In the sunshine they glittered and rang,
At the sound of his lay:

"Day is come up again,
Din the cock's feathers;

Time, sons of trouble,
The toil to be winning.
Wake aye, and wake aye,
Heads of the friend-folk!
All ye of the foremost
Fellows of Adils.

"High, the hard-gripping
Hrolf of the shooting,

Kin-worthy men

Who will not of fleeing.

To wine naught I wake you,

Nor whispers of women;
But up do I wake you
To Hilda's hard play."

Stave after stave he sang it.
Soon was there turbulent life
Throughout the awakened camp;
Coldly the landscape gleamed,
Autumn-clear was the air,

The river flowed on in the sun,

The woods with color were lit. . . .

Beat then as one

Hearts that were longing for home.

To fight for the land beloved,
Fight for a king so dear,

Fight against Odin, his wiles,