And down his bosom roll'd;
The claws that fenc'd his finger ends
Were frightful to behold.

"I never yet have seen," he cried,
"A ship come near my strand,
That here to shore I could not drag,
By putting out my hand."

The good St. Oluf smil'd thereat,
And thus address'd his crew:
"Now hold your tongues, and well observe
What I'm about to do."

The giant stretch'd his mighty arm;
The ship was nigh his own;
But when St. Oluf rais'd the cross,
He sank knee-deep in stone.

"Here am I, sunk knee-deep in stone!
My legs I cannot move;
But, since my back and fists are free,
My might thou yet shalt prove."

"Be still, be still, thou noisy guest -
Be still for evermore;
Become a rock and beetle there,
Above the billows hoar."

Up started then, from out the hill,