The Norse King's Bridal
Ballad 7
The good ship lies on the lee-land,
And under her grows the grass,
Oh never so rash a steersman
As Sir John Remorsson was!
(For the sea she taketh so many.)
The King sits up in Ribe
And a letter writeth he;
He bids his gallant captians
Make ready for the sea.
It was Sir John Remorsson
Put on his armour bright---
"The man is faithless to his king
That will not sail to-night!"
It was Sir John Remorsson
That girt him with his sword---
"The man who will not sail to-day
Is faithless to his lord!
"To-night will we make merry
And drink the foaming ale,
And if the favouring weather hold,
To-morrow we'll set sail."
It was the skipper Hogen
Looked to the sky amain---
"He that will sail the sea to-day
Will ne'er come home again!"
It was Sir John Remorsson
To the haven cried aloud---
"Up with your sails, ye Danish men,
In the great name of God!"
They had not sailed from land a league---
The waves they ran so high---
All sad sat skipper Hogen
With the salt tear in his eye.
They had not sailed from land a league---
The waves they ran so deep---
All sad sat skipper Hogen,
And sorely did he weep.
"Where is the doughty champion
Yestre'en that talked so gay?
Let him now take the helm in hand,
For the anchor is reft away.
"Where is the doughty champion
That talked so loud last even?
Let him now take the helm in hand,
For the sail is rent and riven.
"Now we will cast the lots around,
And bide by heaven's word;
Is there a man of evil life,
We'll heave him overboard."
And straight they cast the lots around
To see who worked them woe;
And the lot has fallen on good Sir John
All overboard to go.
"So far, so far from land are we,
With never a priest anear!
But I will make my shrift aloud,
And trust that God will hear."
It was Sir John Remorsson
Fell on his bended knee,
And there he made his shrift aloud
Before the mainmast tree.
"Full many a wife have I beguiled,
And maidens bright of lee---
But never, ah never, good soth, I thought
That I should die by sea!
Many a maiden have I beguiled,
And many a loving wife---
But never, ah never, good sooth, I thought
That the sea would have my life!
"The merciful Christ in heaven above
I pray to pity me,
For well I wot my sinful soul
A heavy weird must dree.
"If ever a one of you comes to land,
And meets my love of yore,
Tell her to wed whene'er she may---
She'll see my face no more.
"If ever a one of you comes to land
And meets my mother dear,
Tell her I dwell in the king his court
In mirth and goodly cheer!"
Seven and seventy there they sailed
Over the billows blue;
And only five came home again
Of those liege-men tall and true.
Now we will up to the goodly kirk,
High God His grace to pray
All for the soul of good Sir John,
For his corse is cast away.
All out, all out by Boringholm
The tides they run amain,
And there floats many a goodly corse
Will ne'er come home again!
(For the sea she taketh so many.)
<< Previous Page Next Page >>
© 2004-2007 Northvegr.
Most of the material on this site is in the public domain. However, many people have worked very hard to bring these texts to you so if you do use the work, we would appreciate it if you could give credit to both the Northvegr site and to the individuals who worked to bring you these texts. A small number of texts are copyrighted and cannot be used without the author's permission. Any text that is copyrighted will have a clear notation of such on the main index page for that text. Inquiries can be sent to info@northvegr.org. Northvegr™ and the Northvegr symbol are trademarks and service marks of the Northvegr Foundation.
|