Much in fear of axe and rope,
  Back to Norway sailed he then. 
“O, King Olaf! little hope
  Is there of these Iceland men!”
    Meekly said,
    With bending head,
Pious Thangbrand, Olaf’s Priest.

X

RAUD THE STRONG

“All the old gods are dead,
All the wild warlocks fled;
But the White Christ lives and reigns,
And throughout my wide domains
His Gospel shall be spread!”
    On the Evangelists
    Thus swore King Olaf.

But still in dreams of the night
Beheld he the crimson light,
And heard the voice that defied
Him who was crucified,
And challenged him to the fight. 
    To Sigurd the Bishop
    King Olaf confessed it.

And Sigurd the Bishop said,
“The old gods are not dead,
For the great Thor still reigns,
And among the Jarls and Thanes
The old witchcraft still is spread.” 
    Thus to King Olaf
    Said Sigurd the Bishop.

“Far north in the Salten Fiord,
By rapine, fire, and sword,
Lives the Viking, Raud the Strong;
All the Godoe Isles belong
To him and his heathen horde.” 
   Thus went on speaking
   Sigurd the Bishop.

“A warlock, a wizard is he,
And lord of the wind and the sea;
And whichever way he sails,
He has ever favoring gales,
By his craft in sorcery.” 
    Here the sign of the cross
    Made devoutly King Olaf.

“With rites that we both abhor,
He worships Odin and Thor;
So it cannot yet be said,
That all the old gods are dead,
And the warlocks are no more,”
    Flushing with anger
    Said Sigurd the Bishop.

Then King Olaf cried aloud: 
“I will talk with this mighty Raud,
And along the Salten Fiord
Preach the Gospel with my sword,
Or be brought back in my shroud!”
    So northward from Drontheim
    Sailed King Olaf!

XI

BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD

Loud the angry wind was wailing
As King Olaf’s ships came sailing
Northward out of Drontheim haven
   To the mouth of Salten Fiord.

Though the flying sea-spray drenches
Fore and aft the rowers’ benches,
Not a single heart is craven
    Of the champions there on board.

All without the Fiord was quiet
But within it storm and riot,
Such as on his Viking cruises
    Raud the Strong was wont to ride.

And the sea through all its tide-ways
Swept the reeling vessels sideways,
As the leaves are swept through sluices,
    When the flood-gates open wide.

“’T is the warlock! ’t is the demon
Raud!” cried Sigurd to the seamen;
“But the Lord is not affrighted
    By the witchcraft of his foes.”

To the ship’s bow he ascended,
By his choristers attended,
Round him were the tapers lighted,
    And the sacred incense rose.