My truant Oder I shall see no more 120
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 — 125
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: 130
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, 135
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: 140
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 145
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: 150
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; 155
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 160
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. 165
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 which at his table fed, 170
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 175
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: 180
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. 185
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, 190
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. 195
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 200
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: — 205
So flar’d, in the far darkness, Balder’s pyre.
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 — 210
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. 215
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, 220
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 225
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: — 230
‘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. 235
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, 240
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 245
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?’ 250
He spake; and his fierce sons applauded loud.
But Frea, Mother of the Gods, arose,
Daughter and wife of Odin; thus she said: —
‘Odin, thou Whirlwind, what a threat is this!
Thou threatenest what transcends thy might, even thine. 255
For of all
powers the mightiest far art thou,
Lord over men on Earth, and Gods in Heaven;
Yet even from thee thyself hath been withheld
One thing; to undo what thou thyself hast rul’d.
For all which hath been fixt, was fixt by thee: 260
In the beginning, ere the Gods were born,
Before the Heavens were builded, thou didst slay
The Giant Ymir, whom the Abyss brought forth,
Thou and thy brethren fierce, the Sons of Bor,
And threw his trunk to choke the abysmal void: 265
But of his flesh and members thou didst build
The Earth and Ocean, and above them Heaven:
And from the flaming world, where Muspel reigns,
Thou sent’st and fetched’st fire, and madest lights,
Sun Moon and Stars, which thou hast hung in Heaven, 270
Dividing clear the paths of night and day:
And Asgard thou didst build, and Midgard Fort:
Then me thou mad’st; of us the Gods were born:
Then, walking by the sea, thou foundest spars
Of wood, and framed’st men, who till the earth, 275
Or on the sea, the field of pirates, sail:
And all the race of Ymir thou didst drown,
Save one, Bergelmer; he on shipboard fled
Thy deluge, and from him the Giants sprang;
But all that brood thou hast remov’d far off, 280
And set by Ocean’s utmost marge to dwell:
But Hela into Niflheim thou threw’st,
And gav’st her nine unlighted worlds to rule,
A Queen, and empire over all the dead.
That empire wilt thou now invade, light up 285
Her darkness, from her grasp a subject tear? —
Try it; but I, for one, will not applaud.
Nor do I merit, Odin, thou should’st slight
Me and my words, though thou be first in Heaven:
For I too am a Goddess, born of thee, 290
Thine eldest, and of me the Gods are sprung;
And all that is to come I know, but lock
In my own breast, and have to none reveal’d.
Come then; since Hela holds by right her prey,
But offers terms for his release to Heaven, 295
Accept the chance; — thou canst no more obtain.
Send through the world thy messengers: entreat
All living and unliving things to weep
For Balder; if thou haply thus may’st melt
Hela, and win the lov’d one back to Heaven.’ 300
She spake, and on her face let fall her veil,
And bow’d her head, and sate with folded hands.
Nor did the all-ruling Odin slight her word;
Straightway he spake, and thus address’d the Gods:
‘Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray 305
All living and unliving things to weep
Balder, if haply he may thus be won.’
When the Gods heard, they straight arose, and took
Their horses, and rode forth through all the world.
North south east west they struck, and roam’d the world, 310
Entreating all things to weep Balder’s death:
And all that liv’d, and all without life, wept.
And as in winter, when the frost breaks up,
At winter’s end, before the spring begins,
And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in — 315
After an hour a dripping sound is heard
In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow
Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes,
And from the boughs the snowloads shuffle down;
And in fields sloping to the south dark plots 320
Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow,
And widen, and the peasant’s heart is glad —
So through the world was heard a dripping noise
Of all things weeping to bring Balder back:
And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear. 325
But Hermod rode with Niord, whom he took
To show him spits and beaches of the sea
Far off, where some unwarn’d might fail to weep —
Niord, the God of storms, whom fishers know:
Not born in Heaven; he was in Vanheim rear’d, 330
With men, but lives a hostage with the Gods:
He knows each frith, and every rocky creek
Fring’d with dark pines, and sands where seafowl scream: —
They two scour’d every coast, and all things wept.
And they rode home together, through the wood 335
Of Jarnvid, which to east of Midgard lies
Bordering the Giants, where the trees are iron;
There in the wood before a cave they came
Where sate, in the cave’s mouth, a skinny Hag,
Toothless and old; she gibes the passers by: 340
Thok is she call’d; but now Lok wore her shape:
She greeted them the first, and laugh’d, and said: —
‘Ye Gods, good lack, is it so dull in Heaven,
That ye come pleasuring to Thok’s Iron Wood?
Lovers of change ye are, fastidious sprites. 345
Look, as in some boor’s yard a sweet-breath’d cow
Whose manger is stuff’d full of good fresh hay
Snuffs at it daintily, and stoops her head
To chew the straw, her litter, at her feet —
So ye grow squeamish, Gods, and sniff at Heaven.’ 350
She spake; but Hermod answer’d her and said: —
‘Thok, not for gibes we come, we come for tears.
Balder is dead, and Hela holds her prey,
But will restore, if all things give him tears.
Begrudge not thine; to all was Balder dear.’ 355
But, with a louder laugh, the Hag replied: —
‘Is Balder dead? and do ye come for tears?
Thok with dry eyes will weep o’er Balder’s pyre.
Weep him all other things, if weep they will —
I weep him not: let Hela keep her prey!’ 360
She spake; and to the cavern’s depth she fled,
Mocking: and Hermod knew their toil was vain.
And as seafaring men, who long have wrought
In the great deep for gain, at last come home,
And towards evening see the headlands rise 365
Of their own country, and can clear descry
A fire of wither’d furze which boys have lit
Upon the cliffs, or smoke of burning weeds
Out of a till’d field inland; — then the wind
Catches them, and drives out again to sea: 370
And they go long days tossing up and down
Over the grey sea ridges; and the glimpse
Of port they had makes bitterer far their toil —
So the Gods’ cross was bitterer for their joy.
Then, at heart, to Niord Hermod spake: — 375
‘It is the Accuser Lok, who flouts us all.
Ride back, and tell in Heaven this heavy news.
I must again below, to Hela’s realm.’
He spoke; and Niord set forth back to Heaven.
But northward Hermod rode, the way below; 380
The way he knew: and travers’d Giall’s stream,
And down to Ocean group’d, and cross’d the ice,
And came beneath the wall, and found the grate
Still lifted; well was his return foreknown.
And once more Hermod saw around him spread 385
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: 390
And Hermod look’d, and knew his brother’s ghost,
&nbs
p; 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 gulph
Of the deep inner gloom, but flittest here, 395
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: — 400
‘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 — 405
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: 410
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, 415
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 420
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, 425
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 430
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, 435
Or is he mingled with the unnumber’d dead?’
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Page 24