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FRITHIOF’S SAGA 107
My bloom is past, and chill winter’s snow
Full long ago
Hath whitened the hoary locks of your King.
"Yet an honest man still her choice may be,
Though white his hair;
And if to my motherless children she
A mother will be,
Then autumn with spring-time his throne may share.
" Take gold from my coffers, take bridal array
From each oaken chest ;
And follow, ye bards, with your harps on the way,
For meetly may
He seek Brage’s aid who a-wooing doth haste."
Forth with shouting and glee his men sped strong,
With gifts and with gold;
And the Skalds they followed, a winding throng,
With harp and with song,
And the home of King Bele’s sons soon they
behold.
Two days they feasted, they feasted three;
When the fourth was come,
To hear what Helge’s answer might be
Entreated they,
That back again they might hie them home.
To the grove for sacrifice brought he in haste
Both falcon and steed;
Then sought each Vala, and sought each priest,
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