United States or Norfolk Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


There was a fine austerity in him that denied such a course. Were he an undoomed man his creed and his cause would forbid him to philander; being a doomed man, it could not consort with his honor to act differently. But he was radiantly happy in her constant companionship, and the hours fled from him iris-tinted as he relived the age of gold.

When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled. O'er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found footprint of foe who so far had gone in his hidden craft by the creature's head. So may the undoomed easily flee evils and exile, if only he gain the grace of The Wielder! That warden of gold o'er the ground went seeking, greedy to find the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.

But now that our blood was cool, we were loth to slay them as they lay in our hands; so we bound them and brought them away with us; and our own dead we carried also on such biers as we might lightly make there, and with them three that were so grievously hurt that they might not go afoot, these we left at Carlstead: they were Tardy the Son of the Untamed, and Swan of Bull- meadow, both of the Lower Dale, and a Woodlander, Undoomed to wit.

Light from east, came bright God's beacon; the billows sank, so that I saw the sea-cliffs high, windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth earl undoomed if he doughty be! And so it came that I killed with my sword nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles ne'er heard I a harder 'neath heaven's dome, nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!

The King and the Pope were now equally interested in burying the affair forever in silence and oblivion. So long as these men lived, uncondemned, undoomed, the order was not extinct.

Ye gleanings of the battle, lift up your hearts on high, For the House of the War-wise Wolfings and the Folk undoomed to die. But ye kindreds of the Markmen, the Wolfing guests are ye, And to-night we hold the high-tide, and great shall the feasting be, For to-day by the road that we know not a many wend their ways To the Gods and the ancient Fathers, and the hope of the latter days.

Then through the storm's roaring the fiddles break out, And they think not of warring, but cast away doubt, And, man before maiden, their feet tread the floor, And their hearts are unladen of all that they bore. But what winds are o'er-cold For the heart of the bold? What seas are o'er-high For the undoomed to die? Dark night and dread wind, But the haven we find.