O'er the wild gannet's bath Come the Norse coursers! O'er the whale's heritance Gloriously steering! With beaked heads peering, Deep-plunging, high-rearing, Tossing their foam abroad, Shaking white manes aloft, Creamy-neck'd, pitchy-ribb'd, Steeds of the ocean! O'er the Sun's mirrors green Come the Norse coursers! Trampling its glassy breadth Into bright fragments! Hollow-back'd, huge-bosom'd, Fraught with mail'd riders, Clanging with hauberks, Shield, spear, and battleaxe, Canvas-wing'd, cable-rein'd, Steeds of the Ocean! O'er the Wind's ploughing-field Come the Norse coursers! By a hundred each ridden, To the bloody feast bidden, They rush in their fierceness And ravine all round them! Their shoulders enriching With fleecy-light plunder, Fire-spreading, foe-spurning, Steeds of the Ocean! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BY THE ALMA RIVER by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 9. OF HUMILITY by WILLIAM BASSE ANDRE by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 17 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |