And once more Hermod saw around him spread
The joyless plains, and heard the streams of Hell.
But as he enter’d, on the extremest bound
Of Niflheim, he saw one Ghost come near,
Hovering, and stopping oft, as if afraid;
Hoder, the unhappy, whom his own hand slew:
And Hermod look’d, and knew his brother’s ghost,
And call’d him by his name, and sternly said:—
“Hoder, ill-fated, blind in heart and eyes!
Why tarriest thou to plunge thee in the gulf
Of the deep inner gloom, but flittest here,
In twilight, on the lonely verge of Hell,
Far from the other ghosts, and Hela’s throne?
Doubtless thou fearest to meet Balder’s voice,
Thy brother, whom through folly thou didst slay.”
He spoke; but Hoder answer’d him, and said:—
“Hermod the nimble, dost thou still pursue
The unhappy with reproach, even in the grave?
For this I died, and fled beneath the gloom,
Not daily to endure abhorring Gods,
Nor with a hateful presence cumber Heaven—
And canst thou not, even here, pass pitying by?
No less than Balder have I lost the light
Of Heaven, and communion with my kin:
I too had once a wife, and once a child,
And substance, and a golden house in Heaven:
But all I left of my own act, and fled
Below, and dost thou hate me even here?
Balder upbraids me not, nor hates at all,
Though he has cause, have any cause; but he,
When that with downcast looks I hither came,
Stretch’d forth his hand, and with benignant voice,
Welcome
, he said, if there be welcome here
,
Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me
.
And not to offend thee, Hermod, nor to force
My hated converse on thee, came I up
From the deep gloom, where I will now return;
But earnestly I long’d to hover near,
Not too far off, when that thou camest by;
To feel the presence of a brother God,
And hear the passage of a horse of Heaven,
For the last time: for here thou com’st no more.”
He spake, and turn’d to go to the inner gloom.
But Hermod stay’d him with mild words, and said:—
“Thou doest well to chide me, Hoder blind.
Truly thou say’st, the planning guilty mind
Was Lok’s; the unwitting hand alone was thine.
But Gods are like the sons of men in this—
When they have woe, they blame the nearest cause.
Howbeit stay, and be appeas’d; and tell—
Sits Balder still in pomp by Hela’s side,
Or is he mingled with the unnumber’d dead?”
And the blind Hoder answer’d him and spake:—
“His place of state remains by Hela’s side,
But empty: for his wife, for Nanna came
Lately below, and join’d him; and the Pair
Frequent the still recesses of the realm
Of Hela, and hold converse undisturb’d.
But they too doubtless, will have breath’d the balm
Which floats before a visitant from Heaven,
And have drawn upwards to this verge of Hell.”
He spake; and, as he ceas’d, a puff of wind
Roll’d heavily the leaden mist aside
Round where they stood, and they beheld Two Forms
Make toward them o’er the stretching cloudy plain.
And Hermod straight perceiv’d them, who they were,
Balder and Nanna; and to Balder said:—
“Balder, too truly thou foresaw’st a snare.
Lok triumphs still, and Hela keeps her prey.
No more to Asgard shalt thou come, nor lodge
In thy own house, Breidablik, nor enjoy
The love all bear towards thee, nor train up
Forset, thy son, to be belov’d like thee.
Here must thou lie, and wait an endless age.
Therefore for the last time, O Balder, hail!”
He spake; and Balder answer’d him and said:—
“Hail and farewell, for here thou com’st no more.
Yet mourn not for me, Hermod, when thou sitt’st
In Heaven, nor let the other Gods lament,
As wholly to be pitied, quite forlorn:
For Nanna hath rejoin’d me, who, of old,
In Heaven, was seldom parted from my side;
And still the acceptance follows me, which crown’d
My former life, and cheers me even here.
The iron frown of Hela is relax’d
When I draw nigh, and the wan tribes of dead
Love me, and gladly bring for my award
Their ineffectual feuds and feeble hates—
Shadows of hates, but they distress them still.”
And the fleet-footed Hermod made reply:—
“Thou hast then all the solace death allows,
Esteem and function: and so far is well.
Yet here thou liest, Balder, underground,
Rusting for ever: and the years roll on,
The generations pass, the ages grow,
And bring us nearer to the final day
When from the south shall march the Fiery Band
And cross the bridge of Heaven, with Lok for guide,
And Fenris at his heel with broken chain:
While from the east the Giant Rymer steers
His ship, and the great Serpent makes to land;
And all are marshall’d in one flaming square
Against the Gods, upon the plains of Heaven.
I mourn thee, that thou canst not help us then.”
He spake; but Balder answer’d him and said:—
“Mourn not for me: Mourn, Hermod, for the Gods:
Mourn for the men on Earth, the Gods in Heaven,
Who live, and with their eyes shall see that day.
The day will come, when Asgard’s towers shall fall,
And Odin, and his Sons, the seed of Heaven:
But what were I, to save them in that hour?
If strength could save them, could not Odin save,
My Father, and his pride, the Warrior Thor,
Vidar the Silent, the Impetuous Tyr?
I, what were I, when these can naught avail?
Yet, doubtless, when the day of battle comes,
And the two Hosts are marshall’d, and in Heaven
The golden-crested Cock shall sound alarm,
And his black Brother-Bird from hence reply,
And bucklers clash, and spears begin to pour—
Longing will stir within my breast, though vain.
But not to me so grievous, as, I know,
To other Gods it were, is my enforc’d
Absence from fields where I could nothing aid:
For I am long since weary of your storm
Of carnage, and find, Hermod, in your life
Something too much of war and broils, which make
Life one perpetual fight, a bath of blood.
Mine eyes are dizzy with the arrowy hail;
Mine ears are stunn’d with blows, and sick for calm.
Inactive therefore let me lie, in gloom,
Unarm’d, inglorious: I attend the course
Of ages, and my late return to light,
In times less alien to a spirit mild,
In new-recover’d seats, the happier day.”
He spake; and the fleet Hermod thus replied:—
“Brother, what seats are these, what happier day?
Tell me, that I may ponder it when gone.”
And
