One circle standing close within another
Unto the top. Upon the judgment seat,
A thunder cloud, thy brother Helge sat,--
A pallid headsman with a dusky look.
And next to him, a seeming grown up child,
Sat Halfdan,---thoughtless, playing with his sword.
Then I arose, and, said: "War waiting stands
Within thy borders, beating on the shield,--
Thy kingdom now, king Helge, is in peril;
Give me my sister, and I'll give to thee
Mine arm, it may be usefu] in this strife.
Between us let ill will forgotten be,--
I would not cherish it 'gainst Ing'borg's brother.
To reason listen, king, and save at once
Thy golden crown, thy purest sister's heart.
Here is my hand. By Asa-Thor, I swear,
I'll never offer it again to thee."
An uproar shook the thing. A thousand swords
Approval hammered on a thousand shields.
The clang of weapons flew to heaven, which heard
With joy the assent of freemen to the right.
"To him give Ingeborg, the slender lily,
Most beautiful our dales have ever grown;
No better sword our favored land can boast,--
To him give Ingeborg." Our foster-father,
The reverend Hilding, with his silver-beard,
Stood forth and spoke in words of wisdom full,
Short apothegms, as keen as sharpened swords.
And Halfdan, too, from off of royal seat
Arose, with pleading words and pleading looks,--