Heimskringla. Snorri Sturluson

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       Because the king of Dags' old race

       In Odin's hall must fill a place.

      "Then up spake Gondul, standing near

       Resting upon her long ash spear,—

       'Hakon! the gods' cause prospers well,

       And thou in Odin's halls shalt dwell!'

       The king beside the shore of Stord

       The speech of the valkyrie heard,

       Who sat there on his coal-black steed,

       With shield on arm and helm on head.

      "Thoughtful, said Hakon, 'Tell me why

       Ruler of battles, victory

       Is so dealt out on Stord's red plain?

       Have we not well deserved to gain?'

       'And is it not as well dealt out?'

       Said Gondul. 'Hearest thou not the shout?

       The field is cleared—the foemen run—

       The day is ours—the battle won!'

      "Then Skogul said, 'My coal-black steed,

       Home to the gods I now must speed,

       To their green home, to tell the tiding

       That Hakon's self is thither riding.'

       To Hermod and to Brage then

       Said Odin, 'Here, the first of men,

       Brave Hakon comes, the Norsemen's king,—

       Go forth, my welcome to him bring.'

      "Fresh from the battle-field came in,

       Dripping with blood, the Norsemen'a king.

       'Methinks,' said he, great Odin's will

       Is harsh, and bodes me further ill;

       Thy son from off the field to-day

       From victory to snatch away!'

       But Odin said, 'Be thine the joy

       Valhal gives, my own brave boy!'

      "And Brage said, 'Eight brothers here

       Welcome thee to Valhal's cheer,

       To drain the cup, or fights repeat

       Where Hakon Eirik's earls beat.'

       Quoth the stout king, 'And shall my gear,

       Helm, sword, and mail-coat, axe and spear,

       Be still at hand! 'Tis good to hold

       Fast by our trusty friends of old.'

      "Well was it seen that Hakon still

       Had saved the temples from all ill;

       For the whole council of the gods

       Welcomed the king to their abodes.

       Happy the day when men are born

       Like Hakon, who all base things scorn.—

       Win from the brave and honoured name,

       And die amidst an endless fame.

      "Sooner shall Fenriswolf devour

       The race of man from shore to shore,

       Than such a grace to kingly crown

       As gallant Hakon want renown.

       Life, land, friends, riches, all will fly,

       And we in slavery shall sigh.

       But Hakon in the blessed abodes

       For ever lives with the bright gods."