From the hill Orm's father cried,
Where so long, so long he'd lain;
"Cannot I in quiet lie
Deep within my dark domain?

Who upon my hill doth stand?
Who doth dare disturb my bones?
Cannot I in quiet lie
'Neath my heavy roof of stones?

Who doth dare my sleep to scare?
Who brings down this ruin all?
Let him fear, for now I swear
That by Birting he shall fall."

"I'm Orm Ungarswayne, thy son,
Youngest son, O father dear:
And to beg a mighty boon
In my need I seek thee here."

"If thou be Orm Ungarswayne,
Orm the kempion bold and free,
Silver, gold, last year I told--
All thou cravedst--o'er to thee."

"Thou wast free of gold and fee,
Glittering trash of little worth--
Birting now I crave of thee,
Birting bravest sword of earth."