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41

(1917) Author: Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Translator: William Morton Payne With: William Morton Payne
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THE NORTHERN OCEAN

Behold them here standing, to ice-mountains frozen,

Overthrown in the sea.

“<T it was who smote with my hammer
When my followers called upon me,
Swore by my ruddy beard, and made sacrifice,
In the hammer finding their shield.

«©Warlocks twain here for years found refuge,
Ranged the land with their mighty besoms,
Swept my followers into the ocean, striking
Heaven and sea with storms.

“Tn a sea-filled mountain fissure I found them,
Blocked it up, since then they have stayed there;
Set then to rights a few small matters that vexed,
Here now reigns a fitting peace.

“¢/ it was who urged thee up northward;
‘Too worthy thou art yon to be spent.
Here, where swelling in fury the sea thou canst
hear,
Is the place for a man of deeds.

“‘Lately the tempest raged through the West,
Then was it I who was passing over.
Lightnings flashed as the storm swept over the

valley,
Then was it I who came.

41

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