Ellide gayly the headland rounding,
Skips lightly on, like a roebuck bounding. 
Familiar waters surround the prow
Where happy Fridthjof is standing now. 
He rubs his eyes and his hand he places
Above his brow to discern the traces
Of home so dear; but he looks in vain,—­
Of Framness ashes alone remain. 
The naked chimney stands lone and dreary,
Like warriors’ bones of their grave-mounds weary;
The garden place is a blackened floor,
The ashes whirl round the wasted shore. 
In bitter mood from his ship he hasteth,
Around the ruins his eyes he casteth,
His father’s dwelling, his childhood’s pride. 
Then faithful Bran with the shaggy hide,
Comes running toward him, each moment faster,—­
Of forest bears had he oft been master;
How high he springs in his gladsome glee,
How leaps with pleasure his friend to see. 
The milk-white steed he so oft had ridden
Comes bounding up from the valley hidden,
With swan-like neck and the frame of a hind
And gold mane floating upon the wind. 
He curves his neck and he stamps while standing,
His food from Fridthjof’s own hand demanding;
But Fridthjof, poorer by far than they,
Has nought to give them,—­he turns away.

Unsheltered, sorrowful stands the rover;
He looks at the meadow and grove burnt over,-
Of Hilding’s coming quite unaware,
His foster-father with silver hair. 
“At what I see I can scarcely wonder,
When eagles flit then their nests are plunder. 
’Tis Helge’s deed lest the land be wroth,
So well he keeps his crowning oath! 
To hate mankind and to gods be loyal,
While blackened homes mark his progress royal! 
More grief it gives me and less of pain;
But where does my Ingeborg meanwhile remain?”
“The word I hear,” Hilding said in sadness,
“I fear will bring you but little gladness. 
You scarce had sailed when king Ring came on,
Five shields I counted against our one. 
In Disar-dale did we prove our valor,—­
The river foamed with a crimson color. 
King Halfdan’s jest and his laugh arose,
So too the sound of his manly blows. 
My shield I held as a buckler o’er him,
Well pleased with fruits his bravery bore him. 
Not long indeed did the battle last. 
King Helge yielded, and flying fast,
Though asa-blood in his veins was welling,
In passing Framness he fired the dwelling. 
Before the brothers the choice was placed,
To give their sister to Ring, disgraced. 
(By her alone could his wrongs be righted),
Or give their throne for his offer slighted. 
Then hither and thither the messengers hied,
But now has Ring carried home his bride.”