On King Olaf's bridal night <br />Shines the moon with tender light, <br />And across the chamber streams <br />Its tide of dreams. <br /> <br />At the fatal midnight hour, <br />When all evil things have power, <br />In the glimmer of the moon <br />Stands Gudrun. <br /> <br />Close against her heaving breast <br />Something in her hand is pressed; <br />Like an icicle, its sheen <br />Is cold and keen. <br /> <br />On the cairn are fixed her eyes <br />Where her murdered father lies, <br />And a voice remote and drear <br />She seems to hear. <br /> <br />What a bridal night is this! <br />Cold will be the dagger's kiss; <br />Laden with the chill of death <br />Is its breath. <br /> <br />Like the drifting snow she sweeps <br />To the couch where Olaf sleeps; <br />Suddenly he wakes and stirs, <br />His eyes meet hers. <br /> <br />'What is that,' King Olaf said, <br />'Gleams so bright above my head? <br />Wherefore standest thou so white <br />In pale moonlight?' <br /> <br />''T is the bodkin that I wear <br />When at night I bind my hair; <br />It woke me falling on the floor; <br />'T is nothing more.' <br /> <br />'Forests have ears, and fields have eyes; <br />Often treachery lurking lies <br />Underneath the fairest hair! <br />Gudrun beware!' <br /> <br />Ere the earliest peep of morn <br />Blew King Olaf's bugle-horn; <br />And forever sundered ride <br />Bridegroom and bride!<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tales-of-a-wayside-inn-part-1-the-musician-s-tale-the-saga-of-king-olaf-viii-gudrun/
