t and hard thy strokes are plied
E'en to his good saddle bow
Vidrik stoops his helm of pride.

"I've from thee borne eighteen blows,
They are, Sir, nor more nor fewer,
For thy kingly honor now
But one blow from me endure."

"If thou eighteen blows hast borne
Be they fewer or be they more,
I'll the self-same number take,
Gift of love can break their power."

Forth a silken thread he drew
Tied it round his helm of gold:
"My heart's dear shall never hear
Blow of blacksmith laid me cold."

Vidrik spake to Mimmering:
"Show thou'rt yet for something good;
I can say for fifteen years
I more fiercely have not hew'd."

Grasped he then the hilt so hard
From his nails that blood outstarted,
On the Monarch's helm he hew'd,
To the navel him he parted.

Shouted Vidrik Verlandson,
Standing on the verdant height:
"Be there one of all your host
Who has further wish to fight?"

Now the Brattens Vendel King
Lies out pouring blood like water:
Vengeance now has Ulf Van Yern,
Vengeance for his father's slaughter.

It was youthful Hammergray
Glanced around the bloody field:
"So like mice in their first sleep
Hushed the foemen lie, and still'd."

Gladly back with Ulf Van Yern
Rode the Dane King's chivalry;
For his sire avenged he thanked
Vidrik oft and fervently.

THE CHOSEN KNIGHT

Sir Oluf rode forth over hill and lea
Full seven mile broad and seven mile wide,
But no one living discovered he
Who a joust with him dare ride.

He saw, whilst forward glancing,
A gallant knight advancing,
Black was his courser, his helm was lac'd,
He came with bounding haste.

Upon his spurs all gory
Twelve gilded birdies bore he;
Each time with the rowel he pricked his horse
The birdies sang with all their force.

Twelve gilt wheels on his bridle
He bore, nor were they idle;
Each time through them the breezes blew,
How quickly around the little wheels flew.

He carried before his breast
A long lance, placed in rest;
Far sharper than diamond was that lance,
It laid Sir Oluf in deadly trance.

Aloft on his helm he show'd
A chaplet of red glare;
Three maidens in proof of their love bestow'd,
The youngest was so fair.

Sir Oluf enquired of the knight,
An he were come down from the realms of light:
"Art thou the Christ, for if thou be,
I'll willingly bend before thee the knee?"

"I am not the Christ of power,
Thou need'st not before me cower;