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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Of The Wooing Of Halbiorn The Strong</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A STORY FROM THE LAND-SETTLING BOOK OF ICELAND, CHAPTER XXX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>At Deildar-Tongue in the autumn-tide,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>Stood Odd of Tongue his door beside.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>Dim and dusk the day was grown,<br>As he heard his folded wethers moan.<br>Then through the garth a man drew near,<br>With painted shield and gold-wrought spear.<br>Good was his horse and grand his gear,<br>And his girths were wet with Whitewater.<br>“Hail, Master Odd, live blithe and long!<br>How fare the folk at Deildar-Tongue?”<br>“All hail, thou Hallbiorn the Strong!<br>How fare the folk by the Brothers’-Tongue?”<br>“Meat have we there, and drink and fire,<br>Nor lack all things that we desire.<br>But by the other Whitewater<br>Of Hallgerd many a tale we hear.”<br>“Tales enow may my daughter make<br>If too many words be said for her sake.”<br>“What saith thine heart to a word of mine,<br>That I deem thy daughter fair and fine?<br>Fair and fine for a bride is she,<br>And I fain would have her home with me.”<br>“Full many a word that at noon goes forth<br>Comes home at even little worth.<br>Now winter treadeth on autumn-tide,<br>So here till the spring shalt thou abide.<br>Then if thy mind be changed no whit,<br>And ye still will wed, see ye to it!<br>And on the first of summer days,<br>A wedded man, ye may go your ways.<br>Yet look, howso the thing will fall,<br>My hand shall meddle nought at all.<br>Lo, now the night and rain draweth up,<br>And within doors glimmer stoop and cup.<br>And hark, a little sound I know,<br>The laugh of Snaebiorn’s fiddle-bow,<br>My sister’s son, and a craftsman good,<br>When the red rain drives through the iron wood.”<br>Hallbiorn laughed, and followed in,<br>And a merry feast there did begin.<br>Hallgerd’s hands undid his weed,<br>Hallgerd’s hands poured out the mead.<br>Her fingers at his breast he felt,<br>As her hair fell down about his belt.<br>Her fingers with the cup he took,<br>And o’er its rim at her did look.<br>Cold cup, warm hand, and fingers slim,<br>Before his eyes were waxen dim.<br>And if the feast were foul or fair,<br>He knew not, save that she was there.<br>He knew not if men laughed or wept,<br>While still ’twixt wall and dais she stept.<br>Whether she went or stood that eve,<br>Not once his eyes her face did leave.<br>But Snaebiorn laughed and Snaebiorn sang,<br>And sweet his smitten fiddle rang.<br>And Hallgerd stood beside him there,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>Nor ever once he turned to her,<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Master Odd on the morrow spake,<br>So many times over comes summer again.<br>Hearken, O guest, if ye be awake,”<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>“Sure ye champions of the south<br>Speak many things from a silent mouth.<br>And thine, meseems, last night did pray<br>That ye might well be wed to-day.<br>The year’s ingathering feast it is,<br>A goodly day to give thee bliss.<br>Come hither, daughter, fine and fair,<br>Here is a Wooer from Whitewater.<br>East away hath he gotten fame,<br>And his father’s name is e’en my names.<br>Will ye lay hand within his hand,<br>That blossoming fair our house may stand?”<br>She laid her hand within his hand;<br>White she was as the lily wand.<br>Low sang Snaebiorn’s brand in its sheath,<br>And his lips were waxen grey as death.<br>“Snaebiorn, sing us a song of worth,<br>If your song must be silent from now henceforth.”<br>Clear and loud his voice outrang,<br>And a song of worth at the wedding he sang.<br>“Sharp sword,” he sang, “and death is sure.”<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>“But love doth over all endure.”<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now winter cometh and weareth away,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>And glad is Hallbiorn many a day.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>Full soft he lay his love beside;<br>But dark are the days of wintertide.<br>Dark are the days, and the nights are long,<br>And sweet and fair was Snaebiorn’s song.<br>Many a time he talked with her,<br>Till they deemed the summer-tide was there.<br>And they forgat the wind-swept ways<br>And angry fords of the flitting-days.<br>While the north wind swept the hillside there<br>They forgat the other Whitewater.<br>While nights at Deildar-Tongue were long,<br>They clean forgat the Brothers’-Tongue.<br>But whatso falleth ’twixt Hell and Home,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>Full surely again shall summer come.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To Odd spake Hallbiorn on a day<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>“Gone is the snow from everyway.”<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>Now green is grown Whitewater-side,<br>And I to Whitewater will ride.”<br>Quoth Odd, “Well fare thou winter-guest,<br>May thine own Whitewater be best.<br>Well is a man’s purse better at home<br>Than open where folk go and come.”<br>“Come ye carles of the south country,<br>Now shall we go our kin to see!<br>For the lambs are bleating in the south,<br>And the salmon swims towards Olfus mouth.<br>Girth and graithe and gather your gear!<br>And ho for the other Whitewater!”<br>Bright was the moon as bright might be,<br>And Snaebiorn rode to the north country.<br>And Odd to Reykholt is gone forth,<br>To see if his mares be ought of worth.<br>But Hallbiorn into the bower is gone<br>And there sat Hallgerd all alone.<br>She was not dight to go nor ride<br>She had no joy of the summer-tide.<br>Silent she sat and combed her hair,<br>That fell all round about her there.<br>The slant beam lay upon her head,<br>And gilt her golden locks to red.<br>He gazed at her with hungry eyes<br>And fluttering did his heart arise.<br>“Full hot,” he said, “is the sun to-day,<br>And the snow is gone from the mountain-way.<br>The king-cup grows above the grass,<br>And through the wood do the thrushes pass.”<br>Of all his words she hearkened none,<br>But combed her hair amidst the sun.<br>“The laden beasts stand in the garth<br>And their heads are turned to Helliskarth.”<br>The sun was falling on her knee,<br>And she combed her gold hair silently.<br>“To-morrow great will be the cheer<br>At the Brothers’-Tongue by Whitewater.”<br>From her folded lap the sunbeam slid;<br>She combed her hair, and the word she hid.<br>“Come, love; is the way so long and drear<br>From Whitewater to Whitewater?”<br>The sunbeam lay upon the floor;<br>She combed her hair and spake no more.<br>He drew her by the lily hand:<br>“I love thee better than all the land.”<br>He drew her by the shoulders sweet:<br>“My threshold is but for thy feet.”<br>He drew her by the yellow hair:<br>“O why wert thou so deadly fair?<br>“O am I wedded to death?” he cried<br>“Is the Dead-strand come to Whitewater side?”<br>And the sun was fading from the room,<br>But her eyes were bright in the change and the gloom.<br>“Sharp sword,” she sang, “and death is sure,<br>But over all doth love endure.”<br>She stood up shining in her place<br>And laughed beneath his deadly face.<br>Instead of the sunbeam gleamed a brand,<br>The hilts were hard in Hallbiorn’s hand:<br>The bitter point was in Hallgerd’s breast<br>That Snaebiorn’s lips of love had pressed.<br>Morn and noon, and nones passed o’er,<br>And the sun is far from the bower door.<br>To-morrow morn shall the sun come back,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>But Hallgerd’s feet the floor shall lack.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Hallbiorn’s house-carles ride full fast,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>Till many a mile of way is past.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>But when they came over Oxridges,<br>’Twas, “Where shall we give our horses ease?”<br>When Shieldbroad-side was well in sight,<br>’Twas, “Where shall we lay our heads to-night?”<br>Hallbiorn turned and raised his head;<br>“Under the stones of the waste,” he said.<br>Quoth one, “The clatter of hoofs anigh.”<br>Quoth the other, “Spears against the sky!”<br>“Hither ride men from the Wells apace;<br>Spur we fast to a kindlier place.”<br>Down from his horse leapt Hallbiorn straight:<br>“Why should the supper of Odin wait?<br>Weary and chased I will not come<br>To the table of my fathers’ home.”<br>With that came Snaebiorn, who but he,<br>And twelve in all was his company.<br>Snaebiorn’s folk were on their feet;<br>He spake no word as they did meet.<br>They fought upon the northern hill:<br>Five are the howes men see there still.<br>Three men of Snaebiorn’s fell to earth<br>And Hallbiorn’s twain that were of worth.<br>And never a word did Snaebiorn say,<br>Till Hallbiorn’s foot he smote away.<br>Then Hallbiorn cried: “Come, fellow of mine,<br>To the southern bent where the sun doth shine.”<br>Tottering into the sun he went,<br>And slew two more upon the bent.<br>And on the bent where dead he lay<br>Three howes do men behold to-day.<br>And never a word spake Snaebiorn yet,<br>Till in his saddle he was set.<br>Nor was there any heard his voice,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>Till he came to his ship in Grimsar-oyce.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On so fair a day they hoisted sail,<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>And for Norway well did the wind avail.<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?<br>But Snaebiorn looked aloft and said:<br>“I see in the sail a stripe of red:<br>Murder, meseems, is the name of it<br>And ugly things about it flit.<br>A stripe of blue in the sail I see:<br>Cold death of men it seems to me.<br>And next I see a stripe of black,<br>For a life fulfilled of bitter lack.”<br>Quoth one, “So fair a wind doth blow<br>That we shall see Norway soon enow.”<br>“Be blithe, O shipmate,” Snaebiorn said,<br>“Tell Hacon the Earl that I be dead.”<br>About the midst of the Iceland main<br>Round veered the wind to the east again.<br>And west they drave, and long they ran<br>Till they saw a land was white and wan.<br>“Yea,” Snaebiorn said, “my home it is,<br>Ye bear a man shall have no bliss.<br>Far off beside the Greekish sea<br>The maidens pluck the grapes in glee.<br>Green groweth the wheat in the English land<br>And the honey-bee flieth on every hand.<br>In Norway by the cheaping town<br>The laden beasts go up and down.<br>In Iceland many a mead they mow<br>And Hallgerd’s grave grows green enow.<br>But these are Gunnbiorn’s skerries wan<br>Meet harbour for a hapless man.<br>In all lands else is love alive,<br>But here is nought with grief to strive.<br>Fail not for a while, O eastern wind,<br>For nought but grief is left behind.<br>And before me here a rest I know,”<br>So many times over comes summer again,<br>“A grave beneath the Greenland snow,”<br>What healing in summer if winter be vain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Morris">William Morris</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538837" data-title="Of The Wooing Of Halbiorn The Strong de William Morris" data-description="A STORY FROM THE LAND-SETTLING BOOK OF ICELAND, CHAPTER XXX.


At Deildar-Tongue in the autumn-tide,
So many times over comes summer again,
Stood Odd of Tongue his door beside.
What healing in summer if winter be vain?
Dim and dusk the day was gro..."></div>
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