THE POESY OF SKALDS
139
As Einarr Skúlason sang:
- The stern snow-wind has thrust out
- With strength, the ship from landward:
- The Swan-Land's steed sees Iceland
- Into the surf receding.
And as he sang further:
- Many a stiff rowlock straineth,
- And the noisy Strand of Fish-Gear,
- The Sea, the lands o'ercometh:
- Men's hands oft span the stays.
And he sang yet further:
- The gray Isle-Fetter urges
- Heiti's raven-ship onward;
- Gold beaks the fleet ships carry:
- Rich that faring to the Chieftain.
And he sang again:
- The Isle-Rim autumn chilly
- Impels the dock's cold snowshoe.
And thus also:
- The cool lands' Surging-Girdle
- Before the beaks springs asunder.
