by Hervey Allen
Stir of the Vikings
Ohoy! From Scandinavian fjords
Dragon ships dart forth to trouble the northern hemisphere.
The horn of Roland astonishes the literal eagles of Roncesvalles.
Droning a new litany deprecating the Northmen,
Priests stand in arched doorways not yet become pointed.
Golden-haired princesses in solid-wheeled carts
Drawn by chalk-white oxen jolt from hall to hall.
Stag horns whiten on the beam ends.
Paris shouts from the walls of its island as Vikings row by.
The White Horse gallops upon the turf of Kent.
Priests cower in the fens of Ely.
Black ships lie like saurians upon the beach of Ireland.
Monasteries candle. Silence descends upon Tara.
Keening for the young men echoes in the valleys,
While hunted chieftains slay the last Irish elk
Among the bog fastnesses of the inland mountains.
Last updated August 29, 2017