Is borne by Oisten Kiaempe, bold;
He risks his neck without heed.

There shines upon the twentieth shield,
Among branches, a rose, so gay;
Wherever Sir Nordman comes in war,
He bears bright honour away.

There shines on the one-and-twentieth shield
A vase, and of copper 't is made;
That's borne by Mogan Sir Olgerson;
He wins broad lands with his blade.

And now comes forth the next good shield,
With a sun dispelling the mirk;
And that by Asbiorn Milde is borne;
He sets the knights' backs at work. {20}

There shines on the three-and-twentieth shield
An arm, in a manacle bound;
And that by Alvor Sir Lange is borne,
To the heroes he hands mead round.

Now comes the four-and-twentieth shield,
And a bright sword there you see;
And that by Humble Sir Jerfing is borne;
Full worthy of that is he.

There shines upon the next good shield
A goss-hawk, striking his game;