The hail-storm; or, The death of Bui

All eager to sail, Swords, lances, and mail, To the sea’s sounding shore The speedy lads bore.

A boisterous breeze Blew swift o’er the seas; The sea-coursers bound O’er the crabs’ playing-ground; Back, back from the bows The brine which uprose, For strong was the swell, In snowy flakes fell.

The goodly barques brought The brave men, well taught To slay chief and churl, To the coast of the Earl; Wide Norway receiv’d— Ye ravens, long griev’d With famine, feast now— Full many a ship’s prow.

They hoist the war mark— On Hamdis’s sark Comes down horrid hail— The heroes don’t quail; Stones, arrows, and darts Dealt death in all parts; The bucklers were broke Beneath the blade’s stroke.

They’re hewing more hard: Heads, hands overboard Fell down in the gulf, To gorge the grim wolf.

Stout hands the hosts have. How fierce the swords wave! In brains of the brave How busy the glaive! The fine fellows die, From the string arrows fly, From off the shield’s sky The sparkles spring high.

How harsh yell the hordes Of hawks! The sharp swords, Swift swung, sever thighs, Stones slung strike out eyes; The steely plates sing, Asunder helms spring, On foreheads renown’d; No rest the wrists found.

Now forward through foes, Felling fierce, Buei goes; The grim gallows-swan Is glad at what’s done.

A storm!—hail doth sound, Each stone weighs a pound; From bruis’d, battered brows, Blood down the deck flows; What carnage! still wide The war-flag did ride, And plied bill and brand The bold Viking band.

From each finger end, Enrag’d now did send Red shafts, the witch wild, The welkin’s weird child; From stout hero hearts All hope now departs, For who can withstand Witch, whirlwind, and brand?

Adown the ship’s side Sprang into the tide Bold Buei, whose blade Black ravens oft fed, Two big chests he bore, Both fill’d with gold ore; Neath each arm was one: Wight braver was none.

Still Waygn fought amain, But valour was vain; For eager on board Earl Eirik’s crew pour’d: Of him the boy bold, Bestower of gold, With slaughter full stern, The stout ship they earn.