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Literature
A Rough Stone Ax
A Rough Stone Ax
When I was a lad, not yet a rogue,
we sailed an icy morn'; at the helm stood Mōg –
I shivered from cold, and shook from great fear;
My teeth chattered loudly; I feared they'd hear;Mōg wished to take, Óle Hellström's keep,
and planned that day to upon his foe creep –
For Óle had slain, Mōg's youngest son;
as Mōg would have it, vengeance be done;Our boatful of reavers hit the sand at dawn,
which I lept in the water to drag the boat 'pon –
We rowed all night to catch Hellström asleep,
that Mōg might be assured a victory to reap;How had Óle knew? How, by Ódin, would I know?
I was a boy - fit to labor and row –
In my fist was o...
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