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APPENDIX TO THE BARDS. Ixxxiii
AXGANTYR,
Conceited Hervor, mad thy deed I
Lest thou into the fire should' st slide,
The sword I'll from the tomb concede,
Xo longer Tirfing I will hide.
HERVOR.
My thanks, thou son of kings ! receive,
"Who from the tomb the sword resign !
prince, more joy I hence conceive.
Than if all Norway now were mine.
AXGANTYR.
Tain maid, t' exult about the sword !
How transitory is thy joy !
Hervor, believe thy father's word,
Tirfing shall all thy race destroy !
HERVOR.
1 to my mariners repair.
To tarry here I've no delight ;
royal sire, I little care
What may my sons to jars incite.
ANGANTTR.
Then take and keep the fatal steel,
Hialmar's bane thou'lt long enjoy ;
With venom fraught its edges feel.
How keen sad mortals to destroy !
HERVOR.
The blade, which you have now resign'd,
I'll keep and wield in martial fight.
murder' d sire ! I little mind
What may my sons to jars incite.

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