Скачать или смотреть Vinland Saga Song Viking Tale

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Sung Version of
The Skeleton in Armor
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

lyrics:
Speak! thou fearful guest!
Who, with thy hollow chest
Still in rude armor drest,
Comest to daunt me!
Wrapt not in Eastern balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,
Why dost thou haunt me?
And, like the water’s flow
Under December’s snow,
Came a dull voice of woe
From the heart’s chamber.
I was a Viking old!
My deeds, though manifold,
No Skald in song has told,
No Saga taught thee!
Take heed, that in thy verse
Thou dost the tale rehearse,
Else dread a dead man’s curse;
For this I sought thee.
Far in the Northern Land,
By the wild Baltic’s strand,
I, with my childish hand,
Tamed the falcon;
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound
Off to his frozen lair
Tracked I the grisly bear,
Oft through the forest dark
Followed the were-wolf’s bark,
But when I older grew,
Joining a corsair’s crew,
Over the dark sea I flew
With the marauders.
Wild was the life we led;
Many the hearts that bled,
Wore the long Winter out;
Often our midnight shout
As we the Berserk’s tale
Measured in cups of ale,
Draining the oaken pail
Once as I told in glee
Tales of the stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gaze on me,
Burning yet tender;
And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heart of mine
Fell their soft splendor.
I wooed the blue-eyed maid,
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest’s shade
Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
Fluttered her little breast
Like birds within their nest
By the hawk frighted.
Bright in her father’s hall
Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Loud sang the minstrels all,
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter’s hand,
Mute did the minstrels stand
And as the wind-gusts waft
The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn,
Out of those lips unshorn,
She was a Prince’s child,
I but a Viking wild,
And though she blushed and smiled,
I was discarded!
Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew’s flight,
Scarce had I put to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she
Among the Norsemen!
When on the white seastrand,
Waving his armed hand,
Saw we old Hildebrand,
Then launched they to the blast,
Bent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast,
When the wind failed us;
Laugh as he hailed us.
And as to catch the gale
Round veered the flapping sail,
‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail,
Mid-ships with iron keel
Struck we her ribs of steel;
Down her black hulk did reel
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane,
Three weeks we westward bore,
Cloud-like we saw the shore
There for my lady’s bower
Built I the lofty tower,
There lived we many years;
Time dried the maiden’s tears;
She had forgot her fears,
Death closed her mild blue eyes,
Under that tower she lies
Never shall the sun arise
On such another!
In the vast forest here,
Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,
Oh, death was grateful!
Up to its native stars
My soul ascended!
There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior’s soul,
Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!