Explore "The Hail Storm" by George Borrow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As in Horunga haven / We fed the crow and raven, / I heard the tempest breaking / Of demon Thorgerd's waking; / Sent by the fiend in anger, / With din and stunning clangor; / To crush our might intended, / Gigantic hail descended.
A pound the smallest pebble / Did weigh, and others treble; / It drifted, dealing slaughter, / And blood ran out like water, / Ran recking, red and horrid, / From battered cheek and forehead; / But, though so rudely greeted, / No Jornsberg man retreated.
With anger ever sharper, / Thorgerda fierce, and Yrpr, / Shot lightning from each finger, / Which sped and did not linger.
Then sank our brave in numbers / To cold, eternal slumbers; / There lay the good and gallant, / Renowned for warlike talent.
To bide the storm unable / Our chieftain hewed his cable, / And with his ship departed -- / We follow, broken-hearted; / For in Horunga haven / Our bravest feed the raven; / We did our best, but no men / Can stand 'gainst hail and foemen.