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100 ARNLJOT GELLINE
Ne’er was the mightiest
Warrior so joyful as
The fur-clad outlaws
Now were:
Ne’er with maiden dancing
Around the midnight fire,
Ne’er the festal mead-horn
And song
Had been to them like this;
War-cries fired them,
‘They smote in measure
Therewith.
*T was as if honoring
‘Those whom they smote,
For in the King’s presence
They fought.
No more were remembered
Or mass or baptism,
Themselves they baptized now,
And sang.
Arnljot in the van saw they
As in mist half-shrouded,
Mountain-huge looming
He stood.
His right hand the sword swung,
The spear with his left hand,
Roar and tumult of battle
Around.
Truly this was the first time
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