Part First. The Musician’s Tale: The Saga of King Olaf. XV. A Little Bird in the Air

A LITTLE bird in the air

Is singing of Thyri the fair,

The sister of Svend the Dane;

And the song of the garrulous bird

In the streets of the town is heard,

And repeated again and again.

Hoist up your sails of silk,

And flee away from each other.

To King Burislaf, it is said,

Was the beautiful Thyri wed,

And a sorrowful bride went she;

And after a week and a day

She has fled away and away

From his town by the stormy sea.

Hoist up your sails of silk,

And flee away from each other.

They say, that through heat and through cold,

Through weald, they say, and through wold,

By day and by night, they say,

She has fled; and the gossips report

She has come to King Olaf’s court,

And the town is all in dismay.

Hoist up your sails of silk,

And flee away from each other.

It is whispered King Olaf has seen,

Has talked with the beautiful Queen;

And they wonder how it will end;

For surely, if here she remain,

It is war with King Svend the Dane,

And King Burislaf the Vend!

Hoist up your sails of silk,

And flee away from each other.

Oh, greatest wonder of all!

It is published in hamlet and hall,

It roars like a flame that is fanned!

The King—yes, Olaf the King—

Has wedded her with his ring,

And Thyri is Queen in the land!

Hoist up your sails of silk,

And flee away from each other.