On some great road, or resting in an inn,
Or at a ford, or sleeping by a tree.—
So Balder said; but Oder, well I know,
My truant Oder I shall see no more
To the world’s end; and Balder now is gone;
And I am left uncomforted in Heaven.”
She spake; and all the Goddesses bewail’d.
Last, from among the Heroes one came near,
No God, but of the Hero-troop the chief—
Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets,
And rul’d o’er Denmark and the heathy isles,
Living; but Ella captur’d him and slew:
A king, whose fame then fill’d the vast of Heaven,
Now time obscures it, and men’s later deeds:
He last approach’d the corpse, and spake, and said:—
“Balder, there yet are many Scalds in Heaven
Still left, and that chief Scald, thy brother Brage,
Whom we may bid to sing, though thou art gone:
And all these gladly, while we drink, we hear,
After the feast is done, in Odin’s hall:
But they harp ever on one string, and wake
Remembrance in our soul of wars alone,
Such as on earth we valiantly have wag’d,
And blood, and ringing blows, and violent death:
But when thou sangest, Balder, thou didst strike
Another note, and, like a bird in spring,
Thy voice of joyance minded us, and youth,
And wife, and children, and our ancient home.
Yes, and I too remember’d then no more
My dungeon, where the serpents stung me dead,
Nor Ella’s victory on the English coast;
But I heard Thora laugh in Gothland Isle;
And saw my shepherdess, Aslauga, tend
Her flock along the white Norwegian beach:
Tears started to mine eyes with yearning joy:
Therefore with grateful heart I mourn thee dead.”
So Regner spake, and all the Heroes groan’d.
But now the sun had pass’d the height of Heaven,
And soon had all that day been spent in wail;
But then the Father of the Ages said:—
“Ye Gods, there well may be too much of wail.
Bring now the gather’d wood to Balder’s ship;
Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre.”
But when the Gods and Heroes heard, they brought
The wood to Balder’s ship, and built a pile,
Full the deck’s breadth, and lofty; then the corpse
Of Balder on the highest top they laid,
With Nanna on his right, and on his left
Hoder, his brother, whom his own hand slew.
And they set jars of wine and oil to lean
Against the bodies, and stuck torches near,
Splinters of pine-wood, soak’d with turpentine;
And brought his arms and gold, and all his stuff,
And slew the dogs who at his table fed,
And his horse, Balder’s horse, whom most he lov’d,
And threw them on the pyre, and Odin threw
A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring.
They fixt the mast, and hoisted up the sails,
Then they put fire to the wood; and Thor
Set his stout shoulder hard against the stern
To push the ship through the thick sand: sparks flew
From the deep trench she plough’d—so strong a God
Furrow’d it—and the water gurgled in.
And the Ship floated on the waves, and rock’d:
But in the hills a strong East-Wind arose,
And came down moaning to the sea; first squalls
Ran black o’er the sea’s face, then steady rush’d
The breeze, and fill’d the sails, and blew the fire.
And, wreath’d in smoke, the Ship stood out to sea.
Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire,
And the pile crackled; and between the logs
Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt,
Curling and darting, higher, until they lick’d
The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast,
And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the Ship
Drove on, ablaze, above her hull with fire.
And the Gods stood upon the beach, and gaz’d:
And, while they gaz’d, the Sun went lurid down
Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and Night came on.
Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm.
But through the dark they watch’d the burning Ship
Still carried o’er the distant waters on
Farther and farther, like an Eye of Fire.
And as in the dark night a travelling man
Who bivouacs in a forest ’mid the hills,
Sees suddenly a spire of flame shoot up
Out of the black waste forest, far below,
Which woodcutters have lighted near their lodge
Against the wolves; and all night long it flares:—
So flar’d, in the far darkness, blazed Balder’s pile;
But fainter, as the stars rose high, it burn’d,
The bodies were consum’d, ash chok’d the pile:
And as in a decaying winter fire,
A charr’d log, falling, makes a shower of sparks—
So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in,
Reddening the sea around; and all was dark.
But the Gods went by starlight up the shore
To Asgard, and sate down in Odin’s hall
At table, and the funeral-feast began.
All night they ate the boar Serimner’s flesh,
And from their horns, with silver rimm’d, drank mead,
Silent, and waited for the sacred Morn.
And Morning over all the world was spread.
Then from their loathèd feast the Gods arose,
And took their horses, and set forth to ride
O’er the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdall’s watch,
To the ash Igdrasil, and Ida’s plain;
Thor came on foot; the rest on horseback rode.
And they found Mimir sitting by his Fount
Of Wisdom, which beneath the ashtree springs;
And saw the Nornies watering the roots
Of that world-shadowing tree with Honey-dew:
There came the Gods, and sate them down on stones:
And thus the Father of the Ages said:—
“Ye Gods, the terms ye know, which Hermod brought.
Accept them or reject them; both have grounds.
Accept them, and they bind us, unfulfill’d,
To leave for ever Balder in the grave,
An unrecover’d prisoner, shade with shades.
But how, ye say, should the fulfilment fail?—
Smooth sound the terms, and light to be fulfill’d;
For dear-belov’d was Balder while he liv’d
In Heaven and Earth, and who would grudge him tears?
But from the traitorous seed of Lok they come,
These terms, and I suspect some hidden fraud.
Bethink ye, Gods, is there no other way?—
Speak, were not this a way, the way for Gods?
If I, if Odin, clad in radiant arms,
Mounted on Sleipner, with the Warrior Thor
Drawn in his car beside me, and my sons,
All the strong brood of Heaven, to swell my train,
Should make irruption into Hela’s realm,
And set the fields of gloom ablaze with light,
And bring in triumph Balder back to Heaven?”
He spake, and his fierce sons
