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Updated: May 29, 2025
To the burg I draw anigh And I see all battle-banners in the breeze of morning fly, But no Wolfings round their banner and no warrior of the Shield, No Geiring and no Hrossing in the burg or on the field."
And so good men deem the tidings that they bid them journey north On the feet of a Shielding runner, that Gisli hath to name; And west of the water he wendeth by the way that the Wolfings came; Now for sleep he tarries never, and no meat is in his mouth Till the first of the Houses hearkeneth the tidings of the south; Lo, he speaks, and the mead-sea sippeth, and the bread by the way doth eat, And over the Geiring threshold and outward pass his feet; And he breasts the Burg of the Daylings and saith his happy word, And stayeth to drink for a minute of the waves of Battleford.
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