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XXIII
FRITHIOF AND BjORN
frithiof
Bjorn, I am weary of wave and of sea,
Boisterous comrades the billows have proved;
Far in the North the proud headlands beloved
Back, with resistless might, beckon to me.
They are happy from home who have never departed,
Ne’er banished afar from their ancestors’ graves!
Too long, alas! all too long broken-hearted,
I’ve wandered around on the wide-heaving waves.
bjOrn
Good is the ocean, in vain dost thou chide;
Freedom and gladness thrive best on the seas;
Little they reck of effeminate ease
Loving afar on the billows to ride.
When I grow old, upon land I will house,
And cling in my turn to it, close as the grass;
But now in hot battle and joyous carouse,
On ocean, my swift years untroubled shall pass.
frithiof
Yet now by the ice we are driven to land,
Clasping our keel lie the chilly waves dead;
Nor care I to wait till long winter be sped,
Imprisoned by rocks on the desolate strand.
Once more in the Northland my Yule-tide I ’11 hold,
And guest to King Ring and my lost bride will be;
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