"Ay, for each that I turn away,

Two men grow in each one of ours."

Mightest thou three thousand turn away,"
Answered Finn,

"For we stand sorely in need of six.”

Just then the brothers turned them around: "Now have we both given thought to the matter, May we not battle, just as we are,

Battle with thee,

Then thy offered baptism will we accept.

"But thou thyself must go bail for it, chieftain, We do not know what it may do to us,

Thou who knowest, must take it upon thee." "That will I indeed,"

Answered them the King, and smiled.

Cheerfully all of the others laughed,

Alone the bishop rose, and, serious,

Went with the two the way they had come,

The army past,

Deep into the woods where were their men.

Fire after fire now was quenched:

One alone where the forest thickened
Blazed up brightly down by the stream,
The sun uprising

Mingled its rays, the light embraced.

The bishop was there with the fur-clad men;
Quiet they sat or reclined around him,

The story of Jesus fell from his lips,
Childlike and calm,

Deep was the peace, and clear the night.

The meaning perchance was not wholly plain,
But upon their sense, like a dream of childhood,
Vision on vision, slowly it dawned,
As were a door

Opened upon an unknown home.

"Yes," said Afrafaste at last,

"Perchance I do not aright perceive it, But if it is true, there lives a man Who takes upon him

All the evil that I have wrought,—

"Henceforth will I, where'er he be,

...

Give him my life, unto death be faithful. . .
If 't is granted me to begin anew,

From this day on,

Both life and death may be worth the while!"

What time rose on the scene the sun

-The hill-tops burned and the river twinkled —

Fell its light on some thirty men;

Cleansed they came forth

From the chill water to greet the morn.

The bishop, an old man, white and bent,
Chanted a mass by the murmuring river,
Priests were there none, nor choral voices,
Nothing to aid-

Save only his own and sustaining faith.

When all was over, up they arose,

Grasped their weapons, and followed the bishop Forth through the woods to the camp of the King. Proud was their gait,

Now should they fight in the royal host.

ELEVENTH SONG

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—

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,

can see.

Scan not too closely!

but faith have only in what they

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,