For life a haven;
My grave thou'lt be,
Thou ocean free."

Thus inly burning
Sang Fridthjof, turning
His prow so true
From seas he knew,
And slowly creeping
'Mid rocks still keeping
Their faithful ward
O'er shallow fjord.

But vengeance watcheth;
King Helge fetcheth
Ten dragons out.
Thh people shout,
With breath abated:
"The king is fated;
He offers fight,
We scorn his might;
Though heaven-descended,
His reign is ended;
From earth we know
He now must go,
The blood god-given
Now longs for heaven."

Scarce was it spoke
Ere keels of oak