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153 FRITHIOF’S SAGA
"Those are Ellida’s pinions,
That, too, must Frithiof be:
By such a proud appearing
Must Thorsten’s son be known;
In all the North such bearing
Belongs to hirq alone."
Forth from the board, in furious mood,
Doth Viking Atle rise,
Black-bearded Berserk, craving blood,
Rage flashing from his eyes:
" Now, now," he cries, " my hand shall show
If Frithiof, as they say,
A spell o’er steel itself can throw,
And ne’er for quarter pray."
With him sprung up twelve comrades there,
Twelve comrades from the board;
They wield the club, they cleave the air
With fiercely brandished sword.
They rush down to the level strand,
Where rests the ship at length,
And Frithiof sitteth on the sand,
Bespeaking might and strength.
"With ease my sword should fell thee now,"
Doth boastful Atle cry,
"But that the choice I still allow
To combat or to fly.
Yet if thou ’It sue for peace from me
(Though cruel name I bear),
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