Is glad to swim
From the sinking stem. 
And Bjorn, none blaming,
Laughed loud, exclaiming: 
“Thou asa-blood,
The art was good;
No one detected,
Or e’en suspected,
I bored so quick,—­
A worthy trick! 
May waves enfold them
And Ran still hold them
As heretofore. 
It grieves me sore
That Helge misses
False Ran’s cold kisses.”

In wrathful mood
King Helge stood
From death delivered;
His round bow quivered,
Though made of steel,
As toward the shoal
So hard he drew it,
Though scarce he knew it,
It clanging broke. 
Then Fridthjof spoke,
His lance well aiming,
While loud exclaiming: 
“A death-bird here,
Enchained I bear: 
If once set; flying,
Then low is lying
Thy coward head. 
By Loke led
Thy fear abuseth;
My lance, refuseth

A coward’s blood;
It is too good
For food so craven;
Its worth be graven
On funeral stone,
But not upon
A name which beareth
The stain thine weareth. 
One exploit brave
Sank ’neath the wave;
The next one failed thee,
Nor aught availed thee;
Thy bow rust broke,
Not thou.  The stroke,
When I aspire,
Is set much higher,
As thou mayst see
’Tis far from thee.”

His carved oar limber
Was fir-tree timber,—­
A mast-fir tall,
From Gudbrand’s dale. 
Taking another,
With both together
He rowed amain;
Like arrowy cane
Or steel blade brilliant
Were the oars resilient. 
The sun climbs up
The mountain slope,
The winds, advancing
From land, to dancing
In morning’s light
The waves invite. 
Where foam-crest swimmeth
Ellide skimmeth
On joyous wings;
But Fridthjof sings: 

“Thou front of creation,
 Exalted North! 
I have no station
 On thy green earth. 
Thy lineage sharing
 My pride doth swell,
Thou home of daring! 
 Farewall, farewell!

Farewell thou royal
 Valhalla-throne! 
Thou night’s-eye loyal,
 Midsummer sun! 
Thou sky unclouded
 As hero’s soul! 
Thou vault star-crowded! 
Farewell, farewell!

Ye mountain ranges
 Where honor dwells,
Creation’s changes
 Your rune-face tells. 
Ye lakes and highlands
 I knew so well,
Ye rocks and islands,
 Farewell, farewell!

Farewell ye grave-mounds
 Where the linden showers
Near azure wave bounds
 The dust of flowers! 
But time revealeth
 And judgeth well
What earth concealeth;
 Farewell, farewell!

Farewell ye bowers,
Beneath whose shade
So many hours
By brooks I’ve played;
Ye friends of childhood
Ye meant me well,
I love your wildwood;
Farewell, farewell!

My love is cheated,
 My home is burned,
My shame completed,
 I’m exiled, spurned. 
From land appealing
 To ocean’s swell,
Life’s joyous feeling,
 Farewell, farewell!