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The valiant provoker of warlike play sends the lances from his hand: he is prodigal of blood. It is poured forth on all sides. The song flows from my heart. The expedition of Eric is celebrated thro’ the eastern ocean.
The king bent his bow: the stinging arrows fly. Eric gave the dead bodies to the wolves in the sea.
It remains that I distinguish among the warriors the superior excellence of the king. My song will flow more rapid. He causes the goddess of war to watch upon his prow. He makes his ship to scate along the rough billows.
