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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3759.txt b/3759.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecb133d --- /dev/null +++ b/3759.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5225 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Fridthjof's Saga, by Esaias Tegne'r +Translated by Thomas A E and Martha A Lyon Holcomb. + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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Anderson has +just published in his "Viking Tales," a translation made by Professor George +Stephens of Copenhagen, and which received the sanction of Bishop Tegne'r +himself. + +And yet we venture to add another, and present here the _first_complete_ +American translation. Mr. Taylor said in his preface to Blackley's version +that there had never been an English Fridthjof's Saga which was satisfactory +to Swedes. This is probably owing to the fact that the Swedes have become so +familiar with its original measures and so accustomed to its peculiar rhythm, +that they cannot willingly dispense with any part of the form which Tegne'r +gave it. Several of the metres employed by him were unknown to Swedish readers +until they appeared in this poem. Tegne'r's experiment of introducing them was +a successful one; and they are now, in the minds of Swedes, as much a part of +the work as the story itself. The feminine rhymes, occurring in fifteen of the +twenty-four cantos, are so melodious that no one who had heard the original, +even if he did not understand a word of it, could be quite satisfied with a +version which does not reproduce them. The feminine rhymes and the +alliteration of Canto XXI have presented obstacles which no single translation +has hitherto overcome. + +The original measures the feminine rhymes and the alliteration of "Ring's +Drapa," are, in our estimation, essential features of a good rendering of the +poem, and if we have done our work well we do not fear that any one will think +there are too many translations. + +For a fuller history of "Fridthjof 's Saga" than can be given in this note, we +refer the reader to Anderson's "Viking Tales," where the sagas on which this +story is founded appear in full. + +The preparation of this translation has been a home work which has brightened +for us the firelight of many a pleasant evening. We publish it in full faith +that it will have a like happy effect in whatever home it may be read. + + October, 1876. + +CONTENTS. + + +Canto I. Fridthjof and Ingeborg + - + +Canto II. King Bele and Thorstein + +Canto III. Fridthjof's Inheritance + +Canto IV. Fridthjof's Courtship + +Canto V. King Ring + +Canto VI. Fridthjof Plays Chess + +Canto VII. Fridthjof's Happiness + +Canto VIII. The Parting + +Canto IX. Ingeborg's Lament + +Canto X. Fridthjof at Sea + +Canto XI. Fridthjof with Angantyr + +Canto XII. The Return + +Canto XIII. Balder's Funeral Pile + +Canto XIV. Fridthjof Goes Into Exile + +Canto XV. The Viking Code + +Canto XVI. Fridthjof and Bjorn + +Canto XVII. Fridthjof Comes to King Ring + +Canto XVIII. The Ride on the Ice + +Canto XIX. Fridthjof's Temptation + +Canto XX. King Ring's Death + +Canto XXI. Ring's Drapa + +Canto XXII. The King's Election + +Canto XXIII. Fridthjof at his Father's Grave + +Canto XXIV. The Reconciliation + +Glossary + + + + +CHARACTERS + + +Bele. (Pronounced Bay'-lay.) King of Sogn, in Norway. + +Helge (Hel'-gay) and Halfdan. His sons. + +Ingeborg. (Ing'-e-borg.) His daughter. + +Thorstein. (Tor'-stine.) A peasant, -friend and companion-in-arms of King +Bele. + +Fridthjof. (Freet'-yof.) Son of Thorstein. + +Hilding. Foster-father and teacher of Fridthjof and Ingeborg. + +Bjorn. (B'yorn.) A sworn foster-brother of Fridthjof. + +Ring. King of Ringric, in Norway. + +Angantyr. (Ang'-an-teer.) Ruler of the Orkney Islands. + +Atle. (At'-lay.) A berserk, and one orf Angantyr's warriors. + + +SCENE--Northern Norway and the Orkney Islands. + + + + +FRIDTHJOF'S SAGA. + + + +Fridthjof and Ingeborg. + + +In Hilding's garden, green and fair, +Protected by his fostering care, +Two rare and stately plants were growing, +Unequaled grace and beauty showing. + +The one a sturdy oak tree grew, +With lance-like stem so straight and true, +Its crown in northern tempests shaking +Like helmet plume in battle quaking. + +The other like a rose sprang forth +When tardy winter leaves the north, +And spring, which in the buds lies dreaming, +Still waits with gems to set them gleaming. + +Around the earth the storm-king raves, +The wrestling oak its anger braves; +The sun dissolves frost's mantle hoary, +The buds reveal their hidden glory. + +So they grew up in joy and glee, +And Fridthjof was the young oak tree; +Unfolding in the vale serenely, +The rose was Ingeborg the queenly. + +Saw you those two by light of day +You seem in Freyja's house to stay, +Where bride-pairs, golden-haired, were swinging, +Their way on rosy pinions winging. + +But seeing them by moonlight pale +Round dancing in the leafy vale, +You'd think: The elf-king now advances, +And leads his queen in fairy dances. + +How joyful 'twas, how lovely too, +When firs[ he learned his futhorc through; +No kings had e'er such honor brought them +As when to Ingeborg he taught them. + +How joyously his boat would glide +With those two o'er the dark blue tide: +While he the driving sail was veering, +Her small white hands gave hearty cheering. + +No bird's nest found so high a spot, +That he for her could find it not; +The eagle's nest from clouds he sundered, +And eggs and young he deftly plundered. + +However swift, there ran no brook, +But o'er it Ingeborg he took; +How sweet when roaring torrents frighten, +To feel her soft arms round him tighten. + +The first; spring flowers by sunshine fed, +The earliest berries turning red, +The first of autumn's golden treasure, +He proffered her with eager pleasure. + +******************** + +But quickly sped are childhood's days,-- +There stands a youth whose ardent gaze +With pleading and with hope is laden, +And there, with budding charms, a maiden. + +Young Fridthjof followed oft the chase, +Which led to many a fearful place; +With neither spear nor lance defended, +The wild bear's life he quickly ended. + +When, struggling, met they breast to breast, +The hunter won, though hardly pressed, +And brought the bearskin home; such prizes, +Think you, a maiden e'er despises? + +For woman values courage rare; +The brave alone deserves the fair, +Each one the other's grace completing, +As brow and helmet fitly meeting. + +And when in winter evenings long, +By firelight reading, in a song, +Of fair abodes in radiant heaven + +To every god and goddess given, + +He thought: "Of gold is Ing'borg's hair, +A net for rose and lily fair: +Like Freyja's bounteous golden tresses, +A wheat-field which the breeze caresses. + +Fair Idun's beauteous bosom beats +Beneath the green silk's safe retreats,-- +I know a silk whose sheen encloses +Light; fairies two, with buds of roses. + +And Frigg's mild eyes are blue and clear +As heaven, when no clouds appear,-- +But I know eyes beside whose sparkles +A light, blue spring day quickly darkles. + +And Gerd's fair cheeks, why praise them so? +The northern-lights, on new fall'n snow,-- +I know of cheeks whose rosy warnings +Portray at once two ruddy mornings. + +I know a heart affection-crowned +Like Nanna's, though not so renowned +And Nanna's love, in song and story, +is justly reckoned Balder's glory. + +For oh, what joy when death appears, +To have a faithful maiden's tears! +To prove a love so strong and tender, +With Hel's grim shades I'd gladly wander." + +Meanwhile the princess gayly wove +In cloth, blue wave and greenest grove; +And as she sang a hero's story, +She also wove a hero's glory. + +For soon there grew in snow-white wool +Bright shields from off the golden spool, +Here, red prevail the battle lances, +There, silver-stiffened armor glances. + +Anon her fingers deftly trace +A hero,--see, 'tis Fridthjof's face; +And though at first almost affrighted, +She blushes, smiles and is delighted. + +The birch tree's stem where Fridthjof went +Showed I and F in beauty blent; +As grew those runes in one, delighted, +So too those hearts in one united. + +When Day invests the upper air, +The world-king with the golden hair, +When men to action urge each other, +They think alone of one another. + +When Night pervades the upper air, +The world-queen with the raven hair, +When stars in silence greet each other, +They dream alone of one another. + +"Thou Earth, who in the spring-time fair, +Bedeck'st with flowers thine emerald hair, +Give me the best; in wreaths I'll wind them, +And round my Fridthjof's brow will bind them." + +"Thou sea, who mak'st thy dark caves bright +With myriad pearls' refulgent light, +Give me the best; I'll weave the clearest +A necklace for my Ing'borg dearest." + +"Thou ornament of Odin's throne, +Eye of the world, O golden sun, +Wert thou but mine, thy blazing splendor +I'd give a shield to my defender." + +"Thou guide in Odin's house at night, +Thou pale moon with thy lovely light, +Were thou but mine, thy pearly lustre +'Mid Ing'borg's golden hair should cluster." + +But Hilding said: "My foster-son, +Your reason is by love outrun; +The norns are partial in bestowing +The blood that in her veins is flowing. + +To Odin high, where bright stars shine, +Ascendeth her ancestral line; +No hope may son of Thorstein nourish, +For like with like alone can flourish." + +But Fridthjof smiled: "My race," he said, +"Goes down unto the valiant dead; +The forest-king I slew, and merit +Thereby, the honor kings inherit. + +"The free-born man will never yield, +He owns the world's unconquered field; +For fate can bind what she has broken, +And hope is crowned with kingly token. + +"All power is noble; Thor presides +In Thrudvang, where all strength abides; +There worth, and not descent, is leader,-- +The sword is e'er a valiant pleader. + +"I'd fight the world for my sweet bride, +Yea, though the thunder-god defied. +Be glad and brave, my lily, never +Shah mortal dare our lives to sever." + + + +II. + + +King Bele And Thorstein. + + +King Bele, sword-supported, in the palace stood; +And with him Thorstein, Viking's son, the peasant good. +His ancient war companion, grown old in glory, +His brow was scarred like rune-stones, his hair was hoary. + +They stood, as on the mountain two temples stand +To honored gods devoted, now half in sand; +And many words of wisdom the walls are saying, +And holy recollections through domes are straying. + +"The evening steals upon me," king Bele said, +"The helmet now is heavy, and stale the mead; +The fate of man grows darker, but all the clearer +High Valhal shines before me, as death draws nearer. + +"My sons I here have summoned, and Thorstein's son +For they should cling together, as we have done; +But I would give the eaglets some words of warning-- +Words may in death be sleeping ere dawns the morning." + +Obedient to the mandate, the three advance-- +First, Helge, dark and gloomy, with sullen glance; +He dwelt amid diviners; the hand he proffered +Was red with blood of victims, on altars offered. + +The next who came was Halfdan, a light-haired swain: +His countenance was noble, but weak and vain; +He gaily bore a falchion, with which he gestured, +And seemed a youthful maiden, in armor vestured. + +And after them came Fridthjof, in mantle blue; +He was stronger than the others, and taller, too; +He stood between the brothers, by contrast seeming +Like noon 'twixt night and morning, in splendor beaming. + +"Ye sons," the king said gently, "my son goes down; +Together rule the kingdom and take the crown; +For unity is power, and no endeavor, +While lance with ring is circled, its stem can sever. + +"Let power stand as sentry on every hand, +And freedom bloom protected throughout the land: +The sword is for protection, and not for plunder. +And shields are locks for peasants no foe can sunder. + +"How foolish is the ruler his land to oppress, +For the people give the power which kings possess; +The crown of leafy verdure which decks the mountain +Will wither if the sunshine dries up the fountain. + +"On four gigantic pillars is heaven's throne-- +The throne of nations resteth on law alone! +Destruction waits on judgment; if misdirected; +By right are men ennobled and kings perfected. + +"In Disarsal, O Helge, the high gods dwell-- +Not pinioned as the snail is within his shell; +As far as daylight flieth, or thought's swift pinion, +Far as resound the echoes, is gods' dominion. + +The offered hawk gives tokens which oft deceive. +Not all runes monumental can we believe: +But an honest heart, O Helge, of pure endeavor, +With Odin's runes is written, misleading never. + +"Be not severe, king Helge, but firm and staid; +The sword that bites the sharpest has the limberest blade. +Kings are adorned by mercy, as shields by flowers, +And spring can more accomplish than winter's powers. + +"A man, however mighty, deprived of friends, +Like tree of bark denuded, how soon life ends! +But he by friends surrounded, like trees shall flourish, +Whose crowns, in groves protected, the brooklets nourish. + +"Boast not ancestral wisdom; each man alone +A single bowstring uses, and that his own; +What matters it to any the worth that's buried? +By its own waves the current o'er seas is carried. + +"A joyous spirit, Halfdan, advantage brings, +But idle talk is needless, and most, to kings; +Of hops, as well as honey, is mead compounded, +Let sports on vigor, lances on steel, be founded. + +"No man has too much wisdom, though learned he be, +And much too little, many less learned than he; +To fools, though high in station, no praise is meted, +The wise hy all are honored, though lowly seated. + +"The steadfast friend, O Halfdan! of mingled blood, +Lives near indeed, though distant be his abode; +But to thy foeman's dwelling the way is weary,-- +Though standing by thy pathway, 'tis far and dreary. + +"For friend choose not the first one that's so disposed,-- +An empty house stands open, a full one closed; +Choose one, the best, O Halfdan, nor seek another, +The world soon knows the secrets of three together." + +These words then Thorstein uttered in clearest tone: +"King Bele unto Odin goes not alone; +We've always stood together, whatever tried us, +And death, now drawing near, shall not divide us. + +"Fridthjof, old age hath whispered in my rapt ear +Full many words of wisdom, which thou must hear. +Birds fly from graves to Odin, with wisdom freighted, +The words by old men spoken, should not be slighted. + +"First, give the high gods honor; for good or ill, +Storms come as well as sunshine, by Heaven's will. +The gods perceive the secrets in thy possession. +And years must make atonement for each transgression. + +"Obey the king: most wisely rules one alone, +The eyes of night are many, day has but one. +The better are contented by best directed,-- +The blade must have a handle to be perfected. + + +Great strength is heaven's dower; but, Fridthjof, learn +That power devoid of wisdom, can little earn. +Strong bears by one are taken,--one man of reason; +Set shields to turn the sword stroke, let law stop treason. + +"A few may fear the haughty, whom all despise, +And with the proud in spirit, destruction lies: +Those once flew high, who're now on crutches creeping; +The winds rule fortune, weather, time of reaping. + +"The day thou'lt rightly prize, whose sun has sunk, +Advice when it is followed, and ale when drunk. +The hopes of youth on shadows are often rested, +But strength of sword and friendship, by use are 'tested. + +"Trust not the snow of spring-time, nor night-old ice; +The serpent when he sleepeth, nor girl's advice; +The mind of changeful woman not long abideth, +And fickleness of spirit, 'neath flower-tints hideth. + +"All men will surely perish with all they prize, +But one thing know I, Fridthjof, which never dies,-- +And that is reputation', therefore, ever +The noble action strive for, the good endeavor." + +So warned the aged chieftains in the palace hall. +As since the skald has chanted in Ha'vama'l, +So passed these sayings pithy through generations; +And still from graves they whisper 'mid northern nations. + +Then many words and heartfelt, these warriors found +To tell their lasting friendship, so wide renowned. +How friends till death, if fortune or frowned or slighted. +Like two hands clasped together they stood united. + +"And back to back in battle we held the field, +And which way norns did threaten, they smote a shield; +Before you now to Valhal we old men hasten, +And may their fathers' spirit our children's chasten." + +The king said much concerning brave Fridthjof's worth, +Heroic power surpassing all royal birth; +And much was said by Thorstein, how graces cluster +Round Northland's honored monarchs, with Asa-lustre. + +"But hold ye fast together, ye children three, +The Northland then your conqueror shall never see; +For royalty and power, when duly ordered, +Are like a bright shield golden, by blue steel bordered. + +"Salute my daughter Ing'borg, the rosebud sweet, +In quiet was she nurtured, as seemed meet: +Protect her, lest the storm-king, with cruel power, +Should fasten in his helmet my tender flower. + +"I lay on thee, king Helge, a father's care, +Love Ing'borg as a daughter, the jewel rare! +Restraint galls noble spirits, but gentle manner +Will lead both man and woman to right and honor. + + +"But lay us now, ye children, in two mound-graves. +Close where the blue gulf tosses its ceaseless waves; +Our souls shall then forever enjoy the ringing +Of dirges which in breaking the waves are singing. + +"When the moon's pale beams the mountains and valleys fill, +And midnight's dew is falling on grove and hill; +Then will we sit, O Thorstein, above our pillows, +And talk about the future, across the billows. + +"And now, farewell, ye children, our work is done; +Unto the Allfather gladly we hasten on, +Like weary rivers longing for sea's caressing; +On you be Thor's and Odin's and Frey's rich blessing." + + + +III + + +Buried were Bele and Thorstein together, as they had commanded; +High rose their grave-mounds on each side the gulf by the blue rolling water, +Death having sundered the hearts that in life were so closely united. +Helge and Halfdan, by will of the people, took jointly the kingdom +Left by their father; but Fridthjof, an only son, heired alone Framness, +Took unmolested possession, and settled himself there in quiet. + +Stretching around him for twelve miles unbroken his acres extended; +Three sides were dale, hill and mountain, the fourth side looked out on the +ocean; +Crowned were the hill-tops with forests of birch-wood, but, on their sides +sloping, +Golden corn plentiful grew, and like billows the tall rye was waving. +Many in number the lakes which their mirrors held up for the mountains; +Held them up, too, for the woods in whose thickets the high-horned elks +wandered, +Making there kingly roads, drinking from running brooks counted by hundreds. +But in the valleys wide, on the smooth greensward were quietly grazing +Glossy-skinned herds, which with udders distended now long for the milk-pail. +Scattered among them were myriads of white-wooled sheep, constantly moving, +Looking like fleecy clouds sailing serenely across the blue heavens, +Wafted now hither now thither in crowds by the winds in the spring-time. + +Twelve times two coursers, fierce whirlwinds, defiant though fettered, +Stood in the rows of stalls, stamping and restless, the meadow-hay chewing, +Knotted their long manes with red, and their hoofs were with iron shoes +glistening. + +Standing apart was the drinking-hall, built of the choicest fir timber; +Counting ten twelves to the hundred, not five hundred warriors assembled +Filled up the spacious apartment, when all met to drink mead at Yule-time. +Down through the middle, from end to end, ran a strong table of stone-oak, +Polished with wax and like steel shining; carved on two pillars of elm-wood, +Far at one end, Frey and Odin supported the dais of honor, +Odin with lordly look, Frey with the sun for a crest on his bonnet. + +'Twixt the two, on a bear-skin (black as a coal was this bear-skin, +Scarlet the mouth, while the tips of the claws were with bright silver +shining), +Thorstein among his friends sat--hospitality ministering to Gladness. + + +Oft when the moon in the heavens was riding, the old man related +Wonders of foreign lands seen by him when as a viking he journeyed, +Far on the waves of the Baltic, the White, and the Northern seas tossing. +Mutely the company listened. Fixed were their eyes on the speaker, +Even as bees upon roses; the poet was thinking of Brage,* + +*(Bra'-gay) + +Brage with silver beard flowing, and tongue clothed in wisdom the choicest, +Sitting 'neath shadowy birches, telling a story by Mimer's +Unceasingly murmuring fountain, he too a saga unending. +Covered with straw was the floor, and upon a walled hearth in the center, +Constantly burned, warm and cheerful, a fire, while down the wide chimney +Twinkling stars, heavenly friends, glanced upon guest and hall, quite +unforbidden. + +Studded with nails were the walls, and upon them were hanging +Helmets and coats-of-mail closely together; also between them +Here and there flashed down a sword, like a meteor shooting at evening. +Brighter than helmet or sword were the sparkling shields ranged round the +chamber; +Bright as the time of the sun were they, clear as the moon's disc of silver. +Oft as the horns needed filling, there passed round the table a maiden; +Modestly blushing she cast down her eyes, her beautiful image +Mirrored appeared in the shields, and gladdened the heart of each warrior. + +Rich was the house, and the eye of the stranger, whichever way gazing, +Rested on cellar well filled, or on pantry or press overflowing. +Jewels the rarest, trophies of conquest, gleamed in profusion; +Gold carved in runes with great skill, and wonderful things wrought in silver. +Chief in this limitless treasure three things were most of all valued. + +First of the three was a sword, which from sire and from grandsire descended. +Called Angervadil, or grief-wader, sometimes, too, brother of lightning. +Far, far away in the East it was forged--so at least says the story-- +Tempered in fire by the dwarfs. Bjorn Bluetooth the first one who bore it. + +Bjorn lost at once both the sword and his life in a bravely-fought battle, +Southward in Groning Sound, where he struggled with Vifil the powerful. +Vifil's possessions descended to Viking. + + At Woolen-Acre, +Old and infirm, there lived a great king with a beautiful daughter. +See, from the depths of the forest there cometh a giant misshapen, +Higher in stature than man, a monster ferocious and shaggy, +Boldly demanding a hand-to-hand combat, or kingdom and daughter. + +No one, however, accepted the challenge, for none had a weapon +Able his hard skull to pierce, and therefore they called him the Iron-skull. + +Viking, whose winters scarce fifteen had numbered, nobly advancing, +Entered the fray, secure in his strong arm and good Angervadil. +Cleft at one blow the hideous goblin, and rescued the maiden. +Viking bequeathed the good weapon to Thorstein, his son, and Thorstein, +To Odin ascended, bequeathed it to Fridthjof. Whenever he drew it, +Light filled the hall as when northern lights entered, or lightning flashed +through it. +Hammered of gold was the hilt, with strange letters 'twas covered; +Wonderful mysteries were they in Northland, but known to the people +Who dwell near the gates of the sun, where our fathers lived ere they came +hither. + +Faint were the runes when the land was in quiet throughout all its borders; +But when the followers of Hild were summoned, then were they burning +Red as the comb of a cock when he fighteth. Lost was the warrior +Who met, on the field of encounter, the blade with its red letters glowing. +Highly renowned was that sword, and of swords was the chief in the Northland. + +Next highly prized was the ponderous arm-ring, widely notorious, +Forged by the Vulcan of northern tradition, the halting smith Volund; +Three marks it weighed, and gold was the metal of which it was fashioned; +Carved were the heavens with twelve towering castles, where dwell the +immortals,-- +Emblem of changing months, called by the poets the sun's glorious dwelling. +First there was Frey's castle Alfheim, that is the sun, which born newly, +Starts once again to ascend the steep pathway of Heaven at Yule-time. +There too was Sokvabek; seated within it were Odin and Saga +Drinking together their wine from a gold shell,--that shell is the Ocean, +Colored with gold from the glow of the morning. Saga is Spring-time, +Writ on the green of the fresh springing field, with flowers for letters. +Balder, the kingly, is pictured there, throned on the sun at midsummer, +Which pours from the firmament riches untold,-- personified goodness; +For lights are the good, radiant, resplendent, but the evil are darkness. +Constantly rising the sun groweth weary; the good also falter, +Giddy with walking precipitous heights; sighing they downward +Sink to the land of the shades,--down to Hel. That is of Balder +The funeral pile. Glitner, the castle of Peace, is there; seated +Within it was Forse'te',* scales in hand, meting out justice. + +*For-se-te + +Many more pictures with these there engraven, betoken the conflict +Waged against darkness, on earth and in heaven; bright were they shining, +Wrought by a master's hand on the broad arm-ring. Clustering rubies +Crown its high center, e'en as in summer the sun crowns the heavens. +Long was the circlet a family heir-loom. On the side of the mother +Traced they their pedigree back to old Volund, ancestor mighty. +Once, says tradition, the jewel was stolen by robber named Soti, +Roaming abroad through the seas. Long was it ere 'twas recovered. +Finally (so runs the story) 'twas said that the robber had buried +Himself with his ship, and. his treasure, deep on the far coast of Britain. +Pleasure or quiet he found not, a ghost was his irksome companion. +Hearing the rumor, Thorstein with Bele the dragon ship mounted, +Dashed through the foaming waves, straight to the place of the sepulcher +steering. +Wide as a temple's arch, or a king's gateway, bedded in gravel, +Covered with grassy turf, arched to the top, the tomb rose forbidding. +Light issued from it. Through a small crevice within the closed portal, +Peered the two champions. There the pitched viking ship +Stood with its masts, its yards and its anchor. High in the stern sheets +Was seated a terrible figure, clad in a mantle all flaming, +Furious demon scouring a blade that with blood spots was covered. +Vain was his labor, naught could remove them. All his rich booty +Round him was scattered, and on his arm was the ring he had stolen. + +"Go we," said Bele, "down thither and fight with the hideous goblin, +Two 'gainst a spirit of fire." But Thorstein half angrily answered: +"One against one is the rule of our fathers. I fight well singly." +Long they contended which first of the two the encounter should venture, +Proving the perilous journey. Bele at last took his helmet, +Shaking two lots therein. Watched by the stars Thorstein saw by their shimmer +His was the lot first appearing. A blow from his javelin of iron +Cleft the huge bolts and strong locks. He descended. Did any one question +What was revealed in the cavern, then was he silent and shuddered. +Bele at first heard strange music. It rang like the song of a goblin; +Then was a clattering noise, like the clashing of blades in a combat, +Lastly a hideous shriek,--then silence. Out staggered Thorstein, +Confounded, bewildered, all pale was his face, for with death had he battled; +Yet bore he the arm-ring a trophy. "'Twas dear bought," he often said +frowning; +"Once in my life was I frightened; 'twas when I recovered that arm-ring." +Widely renowned was that ring, and of rings was the chief in the Northland. + +Lastly the ship, called Ellide, was one of the family jewels. +Viking, so say they, returning triumphant from venturesome journeys, +Sailed along coasting near Framness. There he espied on a shipwreck, +Carelessly swinging, a sailor, sporting as 'twere with the billows. +Noble of figure, tall in his stature, joyful his visage, +Changeable too, like the waves of the sea when they sport ill the sunshine,-- +Blue was his mantle, golden his girdle and studded with corals; +Sea-green his hair, but his beard was as white as the foam of the ocean. +Viking his serpent steered thither to rescue the unfortunate stranger,-- +Took him half frozen to Framness, and there as a guest entertained him. +When by his host to repose he was bidden, smiling he answered: +"Fair sits the wind, and my ship which you boarded, is not yet disabled; +Long ere the morning I trust she will hear me a hundred miles seaward. +Thanks for thy bidding, 'twas well meant and kindly. Ah! could I only +Leave thee a gift to remind thee of me! but afar on the ocean +Lieth my kingdom. Perhaps in the morning 'twill waft thee a token." +Viking next day by the sea-shore was standing, when lo! like an eagle +Madly pursuing its prey, a dragon ship sailed into harbor. +Nowhere was visible sailor or captain, or even a steersman; +Winding 'mid rocks and through breakers, the rudder a path sought unaided; +When the firm strand it was nearing, sudden, as ruled by a spirit, +Reefed were the sails unassisted. Untouched by finger of mortal, +The anchor sped through the clear water and fastened its barbs in the bottom. +Viking gazed, speechless with wonder; the sportive winds sang in low cadence: +"AEger the rescued forgetteth no kindness, he gives thee the dragon." +Kingly the gift to behold. The heavy curved planks of oak timber +Matched not together like others, but grew in one broad piece united. +It stretched its huge form in the sea like a dragon, its stem proudly lifted, +A stately head high in the air. Its throat with red gold was all blazing; +Sprinkled its belly with yellow and azure, and back of the rudder, +Covered with scales of pure silver, its tail lashed the waves in a circle. +Bordered with red were its inky black pinions. When all unfolding, +It flew in a race with the whirlwind, and left far behind the swift eagle. +When it was filled with armed warriors, you'd fancy you were beholding +A citadel swimming the billows, or palace o'er ocean ave flying. +Widely renowned was that ship, and of ships was the chief in the Northland. + +All this and other vast treasures did Fridthjof receive from his father. +Scarce was there found in the Northland any with richer possessions, +Save were he heir of a kingdom, for of kings is the wealth always greatest. +Though from no king he descended, yet was his mind truly royal, +Courteous, noble and kind. Daily became he more famous. +Twelve gray-haired champions, valorous chieftains, sat at his table, +Thorstein's steel-breasted companions, whose brows were with scars deeply +furrowed. +Next to the warriors was seated a youth of the same age as Fridthjof,-- + +Like a fresh rose 'mid the dry leaves of autumn; Bjorn was this blossom. +Grown up with Fridthjof, in days of their boyhood their blood they commingled, +Brothers becoming in good northern fashion, sworn to each other +In joy and in grief, the survivor avenging the death of his comrade. + +In the midst of the warriors and guests who had come to the funeral banquet, +Fridthjof, a sorrowing host, his eyelids with tears overflowing +Drank in accordance with ancestral usage, a skoal to his father, +Heard the old minstrels sing loudly his praises, a thundering drapa, +Rightfully took of his late father's seat undisputed possession, +And sat between Odin and Frey. So sitteth Thor up in Valhal. + + + +IV. + +Fridthjof's Courtship. + + +Loud sounded the music in Fridthjof's hall, +His ancestors' praises sang poets all. +O'erwhelmed with sadness +Is Fridthjof, he hears not their songs of gladness. + +The earth has again donned her mantle of green +And dragon-ships breasting the waves are seen +But Fridthjof, pondering, +Is at the moon gazing or in the woods wandering. + +How fortunate was he but lately, and glad, +For Helge and Halfdan as guests he had; +And with the brothers, +Came Ingeborg; Fridthjof scarce saw the others. + +He sat by her side and her soft hand he pressed; +He felt in the pressure returned him thrice blest, +Enraptured gazing +On her whom he honored beyond all praising. + +In glad conversation recalling their plays, +When life's morning dew presaged bright future days +For memory truthful +Keeps life's rosy gardens in noble minds youthful. + +How fondly she greets him from dale and from park, +From loving names growing in White birchen bark, +From hills where flourish +The oaks which the ashes of heroes nourish. + +"'Tis never so pleasant at home as here, +For Halfdan is childish and Helge severe; +Tho kings attending +To nothing but prayers and praise unending. + +"And no one (nor could she her blushes hide) +To whom my complainings I may confide. +The palace building, +How stifling compared with the groves of Hilding. + +"The doves that we petted, and tamed and fed, + +By hawks oft affrighted away have fled; +One pair remaineth, +Let Fridthjof take one, one Ing'borg retaineth. + +"She'll long like another her friend to see,-- +And homeward returning will fly to me: +Your message, bind it +Beneath her flee pinion,--there none will find it." + +All day they sat whispering side by side, +Nor ceased the low murmur at eventide; +So breathe in whispers +The zephyrs through lindens at twilight vespers. + +But now she has gone, and his joy forsooth +Has gone with the maiden. The blood of youth +His cheek is mounting, +He silently sighs while the past recounting. + +His grief at her absence he sent by the dove, +Which joyous set out with its message of love; +But oh! new sorrow, +It stayed with its mate, nor returned on the morrow. + +His conduct to Bjorn was displeasing; said he: +"What ails our young eagle, he seems to be +Like some shy sparrow,-- +Has his breast or his pinion been pierced by an arrow? + +"What wilt thou, Fridthjof? We have for need +The yellow bacon, and the good, brown mead; +And poets singing, +Their jubilant music forever ringing. + +"The steeds impatiently stamp in the stalls,-- +To the chase! to the chase! the falcon calls; +But Fridthjof retaineth +His gloom. He hunteth in clouds and complaineth. + +"Ellide is restless upon the main,-- +She frets and she chafes at her cable chain; +Lie still my treasure! +Our Fridthjof is peaceable. Strife is no pleasure. + +"Who dies on his pallet,, is dead indeed; +By the lance, as did Odin, we'll die, if need,-- +And thus ensure us +A welcome to Hel, and heaven secure us." + +Then Fridthjof unloos'd the dragon,--and proud, +With full swelling canvas, the waves she plowed, +And swiftly over +The bay to the palace she bore the lover. + +The kings were at Bele's grave met that day,-- +To administer justice and counsel weigh; +Fridthjof advances,-- +His voice sounds afar like clashing lances. + +"Ye kings, lovely Ing'borg, the people's pride, +I choose, from all women, to be my bride; +The king intended +Our lives thus united in one should be blended. + +"He reared us together in Hilding's sight,-- +As two forest saplings whose tops unite,-- +A golden cover +Of lace bindeth Freyja the green tops over. + +"My sire was a peasant, no earl nor king,-- +Yet his memory will live while the poets sing; +In runic story +The grave-mounds are telling my ancestors' glory. + +"I could easily win me a crown and land, +But choose to remain on my native strand: +In battle wielding +My sword for the king, and the peasant shielding. + +"On king Bele's grave we are standing now, +He hears every word in the grave below, +With me he pleadeth,-- +A dead father's counsel a wise son heedeth." + +Then Helge uprose, and replied with scorn, +"Our sister was not for a peasant born, +To kings 'tis given +To strive for our Ingeborg, daughter of heaven. + +"You boastfully call yourself chief of swords,-- +Win men by violence, women bv words; +Boast not of slaughter, +For arrogance winneth not Odin's daughter. + +"My kingdom doth not seek protection from thee, +I shield it myself. My man wouldst thou be,-- +A situation +Among my domestics befits thy station." + +"Thy servant! no, never!" was Fridthjof's reply, +"My father had never a master--shall I? +From thy silver dwelling +Now fly, Angervadil, the insult repelling." + +In sunshine now glitters the blue steel blade,-- +Displaying its letters in flaming red. +"My good sword loyal, +Thy lineage at least," said Fridthjof, "is royal. + +"And were it not now for the high grave's renown, +Right here would I hew thee, swarthy king, down: +Yet will I teach thee +To come not again where my sword can reach thee." + +So saying, be severed at one fell blow +The gold shield of Helge which hung on a bough. +It fell asunder,-- +Its clang on the grave-mound was echoed under. + +"Well done, Angervadil. lie still and dream +Of high achievements,-- meanwhile the gleam +Of rune-fires paling! +And now we'll go home o'er the blue waters sailing." + + + +V. + +King Ring. + + +King Ring moved his gold-stool back. Then uprose + Champion and dreamer;-- +For where in the North does such goodness repose? +His word o'erflows + With the wisdom which dwells in god Mimer. + +Like the groves of the peaceful gods was his land,-- + War's sable pinion +Cast not a shadow where on every hand +Flowers expand +Through the length of his quiet dominion. + +Here Justice alone on the judgment-seat + With Right presided; +And Peace every year paid its tribute meet,-- +While golden wheat + With plenty the harvest provided. + +And swarthy-prowed ships to this favored shore, + With snowy pinions +The products of numberless nations bore,-- +A varied store + Of riches for fortune's rich minions. + +Here freedom and peace did in concord dwell, + Kindly united; +And all loved their father, the king, full well, +For each might tell + His mind in the thing,* none were slighted. + +*See glossary. + +Supreme in the Northland through thirty years + His reign extended; +Contented each went to his daily cares; +At evening prayers + The king's name in blessings ascended. + +King Ring moved his gold-stool back. From the board + All there assembled +Arose to attend on the royal word,-- +Renowned where heard: + But he sighed, and in accents that trembled, + +He said: "My lost queen is in Folkvang-hall + On purple seated; +But here on her grave is a grassy pall, +While breathe o'er all + The flowers with sweet odor freighted. + +"So queenly, so honored, so good and so fair, + There's not another. +Immortal she dwelleth in Valhal's care, +But the people's prayer, + The children's desire, is a mother. + +"King Bele oft sat as a guest at my side + When winter ended; +The daughter he left I would choose for my bride,-- +Her father's pride, + In whose cheeks rose and lily are blended. + + +"I know she is young, and in youth sublime. + Would gather flowers; +My flower is past and my early prime; +My locks has Time + Besprinkled with snowy showers. + +Oh, could she but honor the withered tree + Which age has blighted; +And could she a friend to the motherless be, +Then should you see + To the throne Spring by Autumn invited. + +"Take gold froth my coffers, take jewels rare, + Unstinted measure +Let minstrels attending the way prepare +To win the fair,-- + For song heralds wooing and pleasure." + +With gold and petitions, a noisy throng, + The young men speeded; +And minstrels and skalds, in procession long, +With hero-song + To the sons of King Bele proceeded. + +The feast, where with wassail they drink and sing, + For three days lasted, +But they sought the fourth morning what answer they'd bring +From Helge king,-- + For now their return must be hasted. + +In the grove Helge offered both bird and beast,-- + A sacred duty; +Asked counsel of vala, consulted the priest +What answer was best + For the queen of affection and beauty. + +The offerings and vala and priest denied + The wished-for token; +And Helge, affrighted by signs he'd tried, +With "No," replied, + For men must obey when the gods have spoken. + +But merry king Halfdan laughed gayly, and said, + "The feast is ended, +King Gray-beard himself should have come instead, +I'd glad have led + His beast, and his mounting attended." + +Indignant the embassy went away, + Nor longer tarried; +"King Graybeard his honor'll avenge one day," +Is Ring heard to say, + When to him the curt message is carried. + +He strikes his bright shield hanging high on a bough,-- + His weapon seizes; +And many a dragon is hurrying now, +With blood-red prow, + And helmet plumes wave in the breezes. + +The tidings flew swiftly to Helge king, + Who answered slowly: +"The strife will be bloody, for mighty is Ring; +My sister bring + To the temple of Balder, the holy." + +There sitteth the loving one, full of woes, + Though safe abiding: +She weeps, while with silk and with god she sews +A tear overflows,-- + The dew 'mid the lilies is hiding. + + + +VI. + +Fridthjof Plays Chess + + +Bjorn and Fridthjof chess were playing +On a board, whose squares displaying + Gold and silver deftly fitted, + Skill and beauty both combined. +Then stepped Hilding in. "Come nigher," +Fridthjof said, "and sit thee higher + 'Till our game shall be completed,-- + Foster-father kind." + +Hilding answered: "From the palace +I am come to you for solace. + Evil are the times at present, + You are all the people's hope." +Fridthjof said: "The foe encroaches, +Danger, Bjorn, your king approaches; + You can save him by a peasant.-- + He is nothing, give him up. + +"Fridthjof, anger kings no longer, +Lo, the eagle's young grow stronger; + Ring may thwart, their weak endeavor, + Thou wilt surely find it hard." +"Bjorn, I see you storm the tower. +And in vain your threatening power + 'Gainst the castle is; it ever + Safety seeks behind its guard." + +"Ing'borg sits in Balder's dwelling, +Grief her constant tears compelling: + She should make thee seize thy armor + She with tearful eyes of blue." +"Vain you strive my queen to capture, +Dear from childhood's days of rapture; + Best of all, there's nought shall harm her + Come what may, to her I'm true." + +"Fridthjof, art thou still unheeding +All thy foster-father's pleading? + For thy foolish game art ready + I should go without a word?" +Fridthjof then arises, laying +Hilding's hand in his, and saying: + "My resolve is firm and steady, + And my answer you have heard. + +"Go to Bele's sons and warn them, +Peasants love not those who scorn them; + To their power I bid defiance, + Their behests will not obey." +"In thy chosen way abide thee, +For thy wrath I can not chide thee; + Odin must be our reliance," + Hilding said, and went his way. + + + + +VII. + + + +Fridthjof's Happiness. + + +King Bele's sons may go requesting + From dale to dale the peasants' aid, +In Balder's grove my world is resting, + For them I will not draw my blade. +Then on king's vengeance or earth's sadness, + I will no longer look or think, +But only will the high gods' gladness, + From out one cup with Ing'borg drink. + +While yet the hazy sunshine sendeth + Its purple rays on flowers at rest, +Like rosy gossamer which lendeth + An added charm to Ing'borg's breast, +With sighs along the strand I wander, + My soul with longing all aflame, +Upon the sand I gaze and ponder + And with my sword write Ing'borg's name. + +How slowly go the lonesome hours! + Thou Delling's son, why stayest thou? +Hast thou not seen our mountain bowers, + Our lakes and islands until now? +Dwells there in western halls no maiden + Who waits since morn first kissed the sea, +Upon thy breast her joys to unladen, + Whose whole of life is love and thee? + +At last thy footsteps grow uncertain, + Thy weary journey thou must close, +Now evening draws the rosy curtain, + Behind whose folds the gods repose. +The brooks and breezes to each other + In softest whispers love express; +O! welcome Night, of gods the mother, + With pearls upon thy wedding dress. + +The stars are gliding like a lover + On tiptoe to a maiden true; +Ellide! fly the deep gulf over, + Roll on, roll on, ye billows blue. +Yon sacred grove a temple hideth, + Good Balder's temple, doubly dear, +For there love's goddess safe abideth, + Unto the gods our course we steer. + +Thy shores I tread with joyous measure, + I kiss thy brown cheek, smiling earth, +And all ye little flowers, with treasure + Of white and red, that edge my path. +I hail thee, moon, with pale light streaming + On temple-grove and flowers at rest, +How beautiful thou sittest dreaming + Like Saga at a wedding feast. + +To speak with flowers, O, brook, who taught thee + The feeling in my heart a guest? +Ye northern nightingales, where caught ye + The wailing stolen from my breast? +With evening's red the fairies playing, + In clouds my Ing'borg's form disclose, +But Freyja, jealousy displaying. + Away the image quickly blows. + +Though changing clouds lose her resemblance, + Like radiant hope herself appears, +As true as childhood's sweet remembrance, + She comes, my love's reward she bears. +Come, loved one, come, and let me press thee + Unto the heart that holds thee dear, +My soul's desire, through life, I'll bless thee, + Come to my arms, and rest thee here. + +Frail as the lily's stem so slender, + Yet like spring roses fresh and fair, +As Freyja's troth-plight, warm and tender, + Thou as the will of gods art pure. +Kiss me, and let my burning passion + Kindle thy soul to perfect bliss, +Of earth and heaven I lose the vision, + Enraptured by thy melting kiss. + +Fear not, for here can come no stranger, + Without stands Bjorn. his sword in hand, +His champions guarding ns from danger, + If need be, can the world withstand; +And I, if fighting for my treasure, + Whose form I on my bosom bear, +To Valhal now would go with pleasure, + Could'st then be my valkyrie there. + +And why fear Balder's fierce resentment, + The pious god to whom we pray? +He looks on us with calm contentment, + For, loving, we his law obey. +The god whose brow with sunshine beameth, + With whom all truth abideth sure, +His love unto his Nanna seemeth + Like mine to thee, so warm, so pure. + +There stands his image, not indignant, + But mild and soft as sunset ray, +Upon this shrine of god benignant, + My heart a sacrifice I lay. +Together let us kneel before him, + No better offering can be found +Than two fond hearts which both adore him, + With love like his together bound. + +Scorn not my love, my blossom cherished, + Which more to heaven than earth belongs, +In heaven itself that love was nourished, + And for that glorious home it longs. +Oh! that my weary soul releasing, + The gods would take me up above; +Triumphantly, with joy unceasing, +I'd go, embraced by my dear love. + +When bugle-notes the champions rally, + From out the silver gates they ride; +But I alone join not the sally, + I linger gladly by thy side. +When Valhal's maidens pass me, smiling, + The mead-horn with its rim of gold; +Thee, only thee, my love beguiling, + My tender, loving arms enfold. + +A leafy cottage near the meadow + I'd build us by the dark-blue sea, +And there we'd rest us 'neath the shadow + Of many a golden-fruited tree; +And when bright Valhal's sun each morning, + With his clear torch in splendor rose,-- +We'd hasten to the gods returning, + Yet longing for our home's repose. + +Thy golden locks, with sunshine flushing, + Wreathed with a starry crown should be; +So my pale lily, rosy blushing, + In Vingolf-hall should dance with me. +Then, by my love from danger guarded, + I'd with thee to our home repair,-- +Where singeth Brage, silver-bearded, + Our wedding song each evening fair. + +How sweet the evening song-bird's vesper! + It cometh forth from Valhal's shore; +How soft the moon-beams' gentle whisper, + From where the dead live evermore! +They tell of light and love unbroken, + In homes devoid of care and pain; +Where joyous words alone are spoken, + There thou my love shalt ever reign. + +Oh, weep not, love, those tears regretful, + While through my heart the life-blood streams; +But sweetly sleep,--of grief forgetful + May love and Fridthjof fill thy dreams. +Oh! when thine arms thou foldest round me, + When thy dear eyes but look on me, +How quickly breaks the spell that bound me, + How turn my thoughts from heaven to thee! + +"List to the lark's melodious numbers." + Nay, 'tis a dove his love-song sings, +The lark on yonder hillock slumbers, + Beside his mate with folded wings. +How happy they, always together, + As free their life as wings that bear +Through cheerless storm or sunny weather, + Above the clouds, that happy pair. + +"See, daybreak comes." Nay, but ascended + From some far beacon is the light; +Our happy talk is not yet ended, + Nor yet so soon the lovely night. +Bright morning stat sleep till to-morrow, + And when night cometh, slumber still, +Your waking brings to Fridthjof sorrow,-- + So sleep till doomsday, if you will. + +Vain hope! No longer earth reposes, + The morning breeze new pleasure seeks; +Already bud the eastern roses, + As fresh as those on Ing'borg's checks. +I hear the winged songsters twitter, + A thoughtless throng in the opening sky; +All life's astir, the wavelets glitter, + And lover must with shadows fly. + +Ah! there he comes, in glory beaming; + Forgive, O golden sun, my prayer. +How beautiful, in splendor gleaming! + I feel--I know a god is near. +Oh! who could, in thy path advancing, + With equal grace and power tread, +All hearts with light and joy entrancing, + A life like thine victorious lead! + +Here, 'neath thy watchful eye I leave her-- + My peerless beauty of the North! +Let not the rough world's troubles grieve her, + Thy likeness on the green-clad earth. +Her soul is pure as rays of morning, + Her eyes as blue as thine own sky, + +The same rich tints thy crown adorning + Among her golden tresses lie. + +Farewell, my love, be not forgetful, + Some longer night again we'll meet; +I, lingering, kiss thy brow, regretful, + One kiss I give thy lips so sweet. +Sleep now, beloved; in thy slumber, + May dreams of me thy bosom swell, +At mid-day wake, and with me number + Each absent hour: farewell, farewell. + + + + +VIII. + + + +The Parting. + + + Ingeborg. + +The day breaks clear, and Fridthjof cometh not, +Though yesterday the council was proclaimed +At Bele's grave. The place was rightly chosen, +His daughter's fate should be determined there. +How many supplications hath it cost me, +How many tears by Freyja counted o'er, +To melt the ice of hate around Fridthjof's heart. +And gain a promise from his haughty lips +To give his hand in reconciliation. +Alas! how hard is man! And for his honor, +So calleth he his pride, he counts it not, +Or lightly counts it, if he rudely break, +Of true and faithful hearts one more or less. +But wretched woman, leaning on his breast, +Is like the moss-growth blooming on the cliff,-- +With faded tints, it difficultly holds +Itself unnoticed fast unto the rock, +Is only nourished by the dews of night. +But yesterday, indeed, my fate was fixed, +And now the evening sun hath set upon it, +Still Fridthjof cometh not. The pallid stars +Die one by one, and sadly disappear, +And with each one of them a hope is quenched +And goes from out my heart unto its grave. +Ah! wherefore still to hope? Valhal's gods +No longer love me; I've offended them. +And Balder, 'neath whose shelter I reside, +Is wroth with me, because a human love +Is too unholy for the sight of gods, +And earthly joy must never risk itself +Beneath the temple-arch in which the grave, +The haughty powers have fixed their dwelling-place. +And yet what fault is mine? and wherefore frowns +The pious god upon a maiden's love? +Is it not pure as Urd's bright sparkling fount, +And innocent as Gefjon's morning dream? +The shining sun doth never turn away +From loving ones, its pure and watchful eyes. +And daylight's widow, starry night, doth hear +With gladness, in her sorrow, all their vows. +That which is worthy under heaven's vault, +Can that be guilty 'neath the temple's dome? +I love my Fridthjof. Oh! through all the past, +As far as memory runs, I loved him well,-- +A holy feeling twin-born with my soul, +I know not whence it came, nor comprehend +The dismal thought that it was ever gone. +As fruit is timely set about the stone +And groweth up, and round about it all +In summer sunshine wraps its cloth of gold, +So, too, indeed, have I maturing grown +About this stone, and my existence is +Of my affection but the outer shell. +Forgive me, Balder! With a faithful heart +Thy hall I sought, and with a faithful one +Will I go hence; I'll take it with me now +Out over Bifrost-bridge, and place myself +With all my love before great Valhal's gods. +And there my love, like them an Asa-child, +Shall see itself reflected in the shields, +And fly with loosened dove-wings through the blue +Unending space unto the Allfather's bosom, +From whence it came. Oh! wherefore is the frown, +In morning's twilight, on thy brow so fair? +There floweth in my veins, as flows in thine, +Old Odin's blood. What wilt thou, kinsman dear? +My ardent love I cannot offer thee, +Nor would I offer it, worth all thy joys; +But I can offer thee my life's delight,-- +Can cast it from me as the stately queen +Her mantle flings aside, and still remains +Her queenly self. But my resolve is taken, +And Valhal high shall never be ashamed +To own me kindred. I will meet my fate +As meets the hero his. Ah! here he comes! +How wild he seems, how pale! 'Tis done, 'tis done! +My angry norn she comes beside him now: +Be strong, my soul! At last I welcome thee. +Our fate is fixed; 'tis plain to read it where +Upon thy brow it stands. + + Fridthjof. + + And stand not there +As well the blood-red runes, which speak of shame, +And scorn and banishment? + + Ingeborg. + +Oh, Fridthjof; think! Relate what passed, for I have long foreseen +The worst, and am prepared for all. + + Fridthjof. + +I found the council at our fathers' graves. +Around the grassy mounds, shield meeting shield, +Stood many Northland sons with swords in hand, +One circle standing close within another +Unto the top. Upon the judgment seat, +A thunder cloud, thy brother Helge sat,-- +A pallid headsman with a dusky look. +And next to him, a seeming grown up child, +Sat Halfdan,---thoughtless, playing with his sword. +Then I arose, and, said: "War waiting stands +Within thy borders, beating on the shield,-- +Thy kingdom now, king Helge, is in peril; +Give me my sister, and I'll give to thee +Mine arm, it may be usefu] in this strife. +Between us let ill will forgotten be,-- +I would not cherish it 'gainst Ing'borg's brother. +To reason listen, king, and save at once +Thy golden crown, thy purest sister's heart. +Here is my hand. By Asa-Thor, I swear, +I'll never offer it again to thee." +An uproar shook the thing. A thousand swords +Approval hammered on a thousand shields. +The clang of weapons flew to heaven, which heard +With joy the assent of freemen to the right. +"To him give Ingeborg, the slender lily, +Most beautiful our dales have ever grown; +No better sword our favored land can boast,-- +To him give Ingeborg." Our foster-father, +The reverend Hilding, with his silver-beard, +Stood forth and spoke in words of wisdom full, +Short apothegms, as keen as sharpened swords. +And Halfdan, too, from off of royal seat +Arose, with pleading words and pleading looks,-- +But it was all in vain; each prayer was wasted,-- +Like sunshine lavished on a barren rock, +No growth alluring from his stony heart. +King Helge's sullen countenance was like +His heart,--a pale-faced "No" to human prayers. +"A peasant's son," said he, contemptuously, +"Could Ing'borg gain, but who profanes the temple +Ill-suited seems to holy Valhal's daughter. +Hast thou not, Fridthjof, broken Balder's peace? +Hast thou not seen my sister in his temple +When day had hid itself from your communion? +Say yes, or no!" A deafening shout resounded +From all those rings of men: "Say no, say no, +We take thee at thy word, we sue for thee,-- +Thou son of Thorstein, equal to a king; +Say no, say no, and Ingeborg is thine!" +"My life's delight hangs on a feeble word," +Said I, "but fear it not, king Helge! +I would not lie myself to Valhal's joy, +Much less to earth's. Thy sister I have seen, +Have talked with her beneath the temple's night, +But Balder's peace I have not therefore broken." +They let me say no more. Abhorrent cries +Flew through the thing, and those who nearest stood +Drew back as from a pestilent disease; +And when I looked around, their superstition +Had palsied every tongue, and blanched each cheek +So lately glowing with expectant joy. +And then king Helge triumphed. With a voice +As sad, as awful as the ghostly vala's +In Vegtam's song, when she for Odin sung +Of asas' fate and grim Hel's victory, +So sad he spoke: "Though banishment or death +I could decree, by our ancestral laws +Against this crime, yet I'll be mild as Balder, +Whose sacred dwelling thou hast so profaned. +The western sea a wreath of islands holds, +Where Angantyr, the earl, is governor. +As long as Bele lived the earl each year +His tribute paid, but ceased when Bele died. +Go o'er the sea and drive this tribute in; +This penance thy audacity demands. +'Tis said," sneered he, with meanest mockery, +"That Angantyr hard-fisted is, and broods +Like dragon Fafner o'er his gold: but who +Can stand 'gainst our new Sigurd, Fafner's bane? +Exploits more manly must thou undertake +Than luring maidens under Balder's roof. +When summer comes shall we expect you here +With all thy honor, first of all the tribute. +If not, thou art to every man a felon, +And during life art outlawed through the land." +His judgment rendered, he dissolved the thing. + + Ingeborg. + +And your decision? + + Fridthjof. + + Have I aught to choose? +Is not mine honor bound by his decree? +And that will I redeem though Angantyr +His paltry gold doth hide in Nastrand's flood. +To-day will I depart. + + Ingeborg. + + And Ing'borg leave? + + Fridthjof. + +Nay, nay, I leave thee not, thou goest too. + + Ingeborg. + +Impossible! + + Fridthjof. + + O! hear me, ere thou answerest. +Thy crafty brother seemeth to forget, +That Angantyr was my dear father's friend, +As well as Bele's. Perhaps he'll give +Without constraint what I demand; if not +A worthy advocate, a sharp one too, +Have I. 'Tis always ready at my side. +The gold he covets I'll to Helge send, +And thus will I from sacrificial knife +Of this crowned hypocrite redeem us both. +But we, my beauteous Ingeborg, will spread +O'er seas unknown Ellide's willing sail, +She'll kindly bear us to a friendlier strand +Where exiled love may safe asylum find. +What is the North to me? And what a race, +Which pales at every word of priest or king, +Whose shameless hands would pluck the living rose +From out the sanctuary of my heart? +So, Freyja help, it shall not prosper them! +The wretched slave is bound unto the turf +Where he was born, hut I will still be free, +Free as the mountain winds. A little earth +From Bele's grave and from my father's taken, +Can find a place ,upon our ship, and that +Is all of fatherland that we can need. +My loved one, there another sun is found +Than that which pales above these hills of snow, +And there another sky, more bright than this; +And milder stars with god-like glance adorned, +Look down therefrom in balmy summer nights +On lovers wandering in the laurel groves. +My father, Thorstein, Viking's son, in wars +Had journeyed far, and oft I've heard him tell, +By fireside light in winter evenings long, +About the Grecian sea with islands filled,-- +Fresh groves of green in brightly shining waves. +A powerful race once had its dwelling there,-- +And holy gods the marble temples graced. +But now they stand deserted; grasses thrive +In paths left desolate, and flowers grow +From out the runes that tell of ancient lore; +The slender columns stand like budding trees +Entwined by graceful stems of southern vines. +Throughout the year the earth spontaneous yields, +In unsown harvests, all that men require. +There golden apples glow between the leaves, +And blushing grapes from every bough hang down +And, ripening, swell luxurious as thy lips. +There, Ing'borg, there we'll build us near the wave +A little North, more beautiful than this; +And with our ever faithful love we'll fill +The radiant temple vaults, and thus delight +With human fondness the forgotten gods. +And when, with loosened sheets (no storms are there) +The sailor idly floats along our isle +In twilight's glow, and turns his joyous glance +From rosy-colored ripples to the strand,-- +Upon the temple's threshold shall he see +A second Freyja, Aphrodite called +In southern tongue, and he shall wonder at +The golden locks, seen flowing in the breeze, +And eyes which brighter gleam than southern skies. +And one by one around her groweth up +A little temple-dwelling race of fairies, +With cheeks where yon might see the south had set, +In Northern snowdrifts, freshly blooming roses. +Ah! Ingeborg, how beautiful, how near. +Stands earthly happiness to faithful hearts; +If they are brave enough to seize it when disposed, + +It follows willingly and builds for them +A Vingolf even here beneath the clouds. +O come, let's haste away, each spoken word +A moment shorter makes our waiting joy. +Come, all's prepared! Ellide stretches now +Her shadowy eagle wings for eager flight,-- +And freshly blowing winds now guide the way +Henceforth from this inconstant land forever. +Why tarriest thou? + + Ingeborg. + + I cannot follow thee. + + Fridthjof. + +Not follow me? + + Ingeborg. + + Ah! Fridthjof, thou art blest! +Thou followest none, but always in the front, +The stem of thy good dragon ship, dost place +Thy will beside the helm, to steer the way +With steady hand above the wrathful waves. +How widely different the case with me! +My cruel fate is held in other's hands, +Which loosen not the prey although it bleed; +And sacrifice, lament and lonesome pining, +Is all king Bele's daughter knows of freedom. + + Fridthjof. + +Art thou not free, if so thou willest? In the grave +Thy father sits. + + INGEBORG, + + No, Helge is my father, +Is in my father's stead; on his consent +My hand depends, and Ing'borg will not steal +Her happiness, however near it stands. +Ah! what would woman be if she cut loose +The sacred band with which the Allfather binds +Unto the stronger power her gentle being? +The water-lily pale resembles her; +It rises with the wave and with it falls. +The sailor's keel goes forward over it +And marks it not although it cut the stem. +Such is indeed her fate! And yet the flower, +As long as clings the root unto the sand, +Its growth increases, borrowing color pure +From its pale sister stars which shine above,-- +Itself a star upon the waters blue. +But rudely broken loose, it ceaseless drives, +A withered leaf along deserted waves. +Last night,--that was indeed a fearful night, +An unrewarded watch I kept for thee, +And children of the night, the serious thoughts, +With raven locks went thronging closely by +My ever watchful, burning, tearful eyes; +And Balder too, the bloodless god looked down +On me with frowning glances full of threats. +Last night I pondered o'er my wretched fate. +My resolution's taken; I remain +Obedient victim at my brother's altar. +Yet it is well I did not hear thee then, +With fabled islands floating in the clouds +Where evening's glowing twilights always show +A flowery world of peace and happy love. +Who knows how weak one is? My childhood dreams +Though silent long, with joy rise up again, +And whisper in my anxious ear with voice +Familiar as a sister's kindly tones, +As tender as a lover's ardent praise. +I hear ye not! ah, no, I hear ye not, +Alluring accents once so fondly loved! +A child of Northland cannot elsewhere dwell; +Too pale am I for those bright summer roses;- +Too colorless my mind for that deep glow; +The scorching sun would quite consume me there. +Of anxious longing full, my eyes would seek +The northern star which always watchful stands +A heavenly sentry o'er our fathers' graves. +My noble Fridthjof shall not now desert +The cherished hind that he was born to guard; +He shall not fling away his honored name +To gain so poor a thing, a maiden's love. +A life where spins the sun from year to year, +And where each day is ever like the next-- +A beauteous but unending sameness, is +For woman only, but for manly souls, +And most for thine, it's quiet, weary dullness. +Thou thrivest best where storms are raging round. +On foaming pacers o'er the heaving sea, +And on thy tossing plank, come life or death, +Thou mayest fight with peril for thine honor. +The beauteous desert thou dost paint, would be +A grave for high achievements, not yet born; +And like thy shield, with rust would be dissolved, +Thine independent mind. It shall not be! +I will not steal away my Fridthjof's name +From poet's storied song; I will not quench +My hero's glory in its morning dawn. +Be wise, my Fridthjof; let us yield unto +The haughty norn; let us rescue yet +Our cherished honor from this wreck of life; +Our happiness we cannot save, 'tis gone, +And separate we must! + + Fridthjof. + + And wherefore must? +Because a sleepless night disturbed thy mind? + + Ingeborg. + +Because my honor must be saved, and thine. + + Fridthjof. + +A woman's honor rests on manly love. + + Ingeborg. + +Not long loves he whom he cannot respect. + + Fridthjof. + +Respect is not by fickle fancy gained. + + Ingeborg. + +A sense of justice is a noble fancy. + + Fridthjof. + +Our love strove not with justice yesterday. + + Ingeborg. + +Nor love to day, but all the more our flight. + + Fridthjof. + +Necessity commands our flight,--Oh, come! + + Ingeborg. + +What's right and noble, that's necessity. + + Fridthjof. + +High rides the sun and time is fleeting by. + + Ingeborg. + +Ah, me, it has gone by, gone by forever! + + Fridthjof. + +Consider well. Is that thy last resolve? + + Ingeborg. + +I have considered well; it is my last. + + Frydthjof. + +Farewell then, fare thee well, king Helge's sister. + + Ingeborg. + +Oh, Fridthjof! Fridthjof! must we separate thus? +Hast thou indeed no friendly glance to give +Thy childhood's friend; no kindly hand to reach +To the unfortunate, once so beloved? +Think'st thou I stand on roses here, and turn +Away with smiles my happiness for life? +And that I pangless tear from out my breast +A hope that hath with my affections grown? + +Oh! wert thou not my heart's own morning dream? +Each joy that I have known was Fridthjof named, +And all of life that great or noble seemed, +Did Fridthjof's likeness take before mine eyes. +Bedim the image not: oh, do not meet +With cruelty the weak one offering up +The dearest thing upon the face of earth. +The dearest thing that Valhal's gods can give! +That offering, Fridthjof, is severe enough. +And words of consolation well deserves. +I know thou lovest me--that I have known +E'er since my being first began to dawn; +And Ing'borg's thoughts will surely follow thee +For years to come wherever thou may'st go. +The clang of warlike weapons deadens grief. +'Tis blown away upon the wild, wild waves, +Nor ventures to return when champions all +Their victory celebrate with drinking horn. +Yet sometimes, then, when in the peace of night, +Thy thoughts review again forgotten days, +There will among them glide an image pale, +Thou knowest well; it fondly greeteth thee +From regions dear; it is the image of +That virgin pale in Balder's holy grove. +Thou must not drive it thence away, although +It looketh sorrowful, but whisper kind +Into its ear a friendly word; the winds +Of night on faithful wings will bear it me; +One comfort yet, I have none else beside. +For me there's naught to dissipate my grief; +In all surrounding me it hath a tongue; +The holy temple vaults speak but of thee: +The temple's God, which should all threatening seem, +Thy likeness takes when shines the streaming moon. +Behold the sea--there swam thy keel through foam +To her who on the strand awaited thee; +Behold the woods--there stand so many stems +With Ing'borg's runes engraven in the bark; +Now grows the bark and wears away my name, +And that betokens death, the sagas say. +I ask the day when last it saw thy form, +I ask the night, but both are silent still: +And e'en the sea which bears thee, gives reply +But with a solemn sigh along the shore. +With evening's ruddy glow I'll send to thee +A greeting, when it sinks into thy waves. +And heaven's long ship, the fleeting cloud, shall take +On board the wail of the abandoned one. +So shall I sit within my virgin bower, +In mourning clad, of all life's joy bereft, +And broken lilies sew into the cloth, +Until the Spring its cloth doth weave, and sew +It full of better lilies on my grave. +And when I sadly take the harp to sing +Unending sorrow in profoundest tones, +Then burst the burning tears as now-- + + Fridthjof. + +Thou conquerest, Bele's daughter, weep no more! +Forgive my wrath, it was alone my sorrow +Which for a moment took a wrathful dress, - +A wrathful dress it cannot long endure. +Thou art my kindest norn, my Ingeborg. +A noble mind best teaches what is noble. +Necessity's real wisdom cannot have +A fairer, better advocate than thou, +Thou beauteous vala with the rosy lips! +I yield indeed unto necessity; +I part with thee but part not with my hope; +I'll take it with me over western waves, +I'll take it with me to the gates of death. +The nearest spring-day sees me here again: +King Helge, so I hope, shall see me too. +Then from my promise freed, his bidding done, +The calumny against me, too, atoned, +Then I'll request thee,--nay but I'll demand +In open council and with naked swords, +And not of Helge but of Northland's sons. +Who only can dispose a princess' hand; +I have a word for him who dare refuse. +Farewell till then; be true, forget me not, +And take in memory of our childhood's love, +My arm-ring here, a beauteous Volund-work, +With heaven's wonders graven in the gold; +The best of wonders is a faithful heart. +How well it suits thine arm so snowy-white-- +A glow-worm coiled around the lily's stem! +Farewell, my bride, my loved one, fare thee well. +Ere many moons our mournful lot will change. + + [He goes.] + +Ingeborg. + +How glad, how trusting, and of hope how full! +He sets the glittering point of his good sword +Against the norns, and says: "Ye must retreat!" +Thou wretched Fridthjof, the norns will ne'er retreat; +They go their way and laugh at Angervadil. +How little knowest thou my gloomy brother. +Thy brave, heroic temper fathoms not +The awful depths of his, nor understands +The hate that in his envious bosom burns. +His sister's hand he'll never give to thee; +He'd sooner give his crown, pour out his life, +Of me an offering make to Odin old, +Or to old Ring, whom now he fights against. +Wherever I may look, no hope is found,-- +Yet am I glad hope lives within thy breast. +In secret will I keep my poor heart's wound, +And pray that all the good gods follow thee. +Here on thine arm-ring can I reckon up +Each separate month of all this lonesome sorrow. +In two, four, six,--then can'st thou come again, +But can'st not find again thine Ingeborg. + + + +IX. + +INGEBORG'S LAMENT. + +Autumn has come; +Storming now heaveth the deep sea with foam, +Yet would I gratefully lie there, +Willingly die there. + +Long gleamed his sail, +Flying to westward before the fierce gale; +Fortunate, Fridthjof to follow +O'er the wild billow. + +Swell not so high, +Billows of blue with your deafening cry! +Stars lend assistance, a shining +Pathway defining. + +With the spring doves +Fridthjof will come, but the maiden he loves +Cannot in hall or dell meet him, +Lovingly greet him. + +Buried she sleeps, +Dead for her love's sake, or bleeding she weeps, +Heart-broken, given by her brother +Unto another. + +Falcon he left, +Mine shalt thou be, winged hunter bereft; +I for thy owner will heed thee, +Lovingly feed thee. + +Here on his hand~ +'Broidering I'll picture thee on the cloth's rand, +Silvery pinions I'll give thee, +Golden claws weave thee. + +Once, it is said, +Freyja with falcon-wings north and south sped, +Seeking for Oder, her lover, +All the world over. + +Vainly I seek +Wings of the falcon, for mortals too weak. +Only in passing death's portal +Soareth a mortal. + +Sit here with me, +Beautiful hunter and look at the sea;-- +Longing and looking forever +Bringeth him never. + +Dead shall I be, +When Fridthjof comes again over the sea; +Bear thou my love for his weeping, +I shall be sleeping. + + + + + +X. + +FRIDTHJOF AT SEA. + + On shore king Helge stood, + By turns he sang and prayed, + And in embittered mood + Besought the goblins' aid. + +See! the heavens with darkness toiling, + Empty space with thunders boom, +Lo, the furious waves are boiling, + Ocean's surface hid with foam. +Lightnings now the clouds are streaking, + Here and there a bloody rand, +All the sea-fowls now are shrieking. + Hasting to the safer strand. + + "Hard's the weather, brothers! + Hear the stormy pinions + Flapping in the distance, + Yet we do not pale. + Sit within the temple, + Think on me with longing, + Beauteous in thy weeping, + Beauteous Ingeborg." + +---- + 'Gainst Ellide's stem, + Two goblins warfare made. + One was wind-cold Ham, + One was snowy Heyd. + +Now the storm-wind wildly drifts them + O'er the deep, and madly down; +Now it beating, whirling lifts them, + Upward where the heavens frown. +All the powers of evil coming, + Riding on the billows' top, +From the bottomless, the foaming, + From the wide graves up. + + "Brighter was the journey + By the pale moon's glimmer, + Over mirrored waters + Unto Balder's grove; + Warmer was it, nearer + Ing'borg's heart reposing; + Whiter than the sea-foam + Swelled her bosom fair." + +------ + Solund island fair + Above the waves so white! + Stiller seas are there, + Harbors safe invite. + +But the bold sea-rover feareth + Less upon the trusted oak, +Mans the helm himself and jeereth + At the wild wind's sportive stroke. +Tighter now the sail he fastens, + Fleeter o'er the water skims, +Straight to westward fearless hastens, + Goes where'er the billow swims. + + "Fighting for a moment + With the storm delighteth: + Storm and Northman prosper + Well upon the wave. + + Ingeborg would redden + Should her sea-eagle fly with + Slackened wings, affrighted + By a passing breeze." + +----- + Higher rise the waves, + Deeper furrows plow, + Cordage madly raves, + Creak both keel and prow. + +Waves whichever way contending, + With or 'gainst Ellide's form, +Meet good timbered sides, defending + Menaced ship, defying storm. +Like an evening meteor sweeping, + Joyful glides she through the night, +Like an Alpine roebuck leaping + Over precipice and height. + + "Better was it kissing + her in Balder's temple, + Than to stand here tasting + Salt-foam as it whirls. + + Better 'twas embracing + Bele's royal daughter + Than to stand here gripping + Fast the rudder's helm." + + From the cold sky's field + Snows intense prevail, + And on deck and shield + Rattling storms of hail. + +Lo, o'er all the vessel flying + Night has placed her sable pall, +As in rooms where dead are lying, + Gloomy darkness covers all. +Wave implacable now lashes + Toward his doom the sailor brave +White-gray as with sifted ashes + Frightful yawns a boundless grave. + + "Pillows Ran is making, + Luring us to quiet; + Thine I know are waiting, + Ingeborg, for me. + + Faithful men are plying + Oars of good Ellide; + Gods the keel have made us, + Bear us yet awhile." + +------ + See the sea advances, + Seeking now a wreck, + Ere the eye can glance, + Clears the starboard deck. + +Fridthjof's sinewy arm adorning, + Shone a massive golden ring, +Bright its rays of early morning, + 'Twas the gift of Bele, king. +This in many pieces broken,-- + Made by dwarfs with skillful art,-- +Gives to all on board a token. + Every man receives a part. + + "Gold is good to carry + When you go a-wooing, + Empty-handed no one + Comes to sea-blue Ran. + + Cold is she to kisses, + Flee'th from embraces, + But the sea-bride yieldeth + Met with shining gold." + + Now with threatenings new + Falls the frozen storm, + Rends his sail in two, + Snaps the brittle arm. + +O'er Ellide's side prevailing + Entering rolls the mountain wave, +Men of giant strength are bailing, + 'Gainst, the sea make battle brave. +Fridthjof cannot fail discerning + That he carries death on board; +Then above the billows storming + Rises his commanding word. + + "Bjorn, attend the rudder, + Grip it with a bear's paw; + Valhal's holy powers + Never sent such storm. + + Goblins rule the voyage; + Coward Helge chanted + Safety o'er the waters; + I will up and see." + + Like a bird he flew + Up the icy spar, + Sat on high to view + Fiendish goblins war. + +See, before Ellide gliding, + + Like an island floating free, +Sea-whale on whose back are riding, + Loathsome goblins of the sea. +Heyd a snowy pelt, doth cover, + Figure like a polar bear; +Ham hath wings which, waving hover + Eagle-like in stormy air. + + "Now. Ellide, ready! + Show if hero temper + Dwells within your banded + Convex breast of oak. + + Listen to my order; + Are you Valhal's daughter? + Strike with keel of copper, + Gore the conjured whale!" + +----- + Brave Ellide hears + Fridthjof's proud behest. + With a spring she rears + 'Gainst the monster's breast. + +From the wound a stream is driving, + To the skies 'tis quickly sped, +Now the wounded monster diving, + Roaring seeks his miry bed. +Fridthjof's giant strength then casteth + Lances at the goblins bold, +One in Ice-bear's bosom fasteneth, + One Storm-eagle's breast doth hold. + + "Bravely done, Ellide! + Not so quickly riseth + Helge's magic dragon + Up from out the mire. + + Ham and Heyd no longer + Rule the sea together; + Bitter is it biting + 'Gainst the dark-blue steel." + +----- + Quickly disappears + Storm from sea and land, + Gentle wavelet steers + Toward the nearing strand. + +All at once the sun advances, + Like a king doth he unveil, +All enlivens, all entrances, + Ship and billow, mount and dale. +Last rays, gleaming now like amber, + Tops of cliff and forest bound, +Now each sailor well remembers + The emerald shores of Efje Sound. + + "Ingeborg, pale maiden, + Prayers sent unto Valhal; + Lily-white she bowed her + Knees on sacred gold. + + Light-blue eyes in weeping, + Breast of swan's down, sighing, + Moved the hearts of asas; + Let us give them thanks." + +----- + Now Ellide leaks, + Faithful dragon ship, + Shallow water seeks.-- + Wearied of the trip. + +Still more tired by labor dreary, + Fridthjof's men desire the land; +But enfeebled, faint and weary, + Sword-supported, scarce can stand. +Bjorn, on powerful shoulders, beareth + Four of them and safely lands; +Fridthjof, too, the labor shareth, + Eight sets round the burning brands. + + "Do not bhtsh, pale heroes! + Waves are sturdy vikings; + Hard indeed is fighting + 'Gainst the ocean's bride. + + See, there comes the mead-horn, + Gold the feet that bear it. + Warm your frozen members; + Skoal to Ingeborg! + + + + +XI. + +FRIDTHJOF WITH ANGANTYR. + + +'Tis now to tell the story + How in his fir-wood hall, +Sat Angantyr, the hoary, + And drank with champions all. +He, joyous and light-hearted, + Looked out to where the sun +Behind the waves departed, + Just like a golden swan. + +Outside the hall's commotion + Old Halvard watched,--indeed +Not only watched the ocean, + But also watched his mead. +His custom, seldom broken, + Was, quick the horn to drain, +And ere a word was spoken, + To thrust it in again. + +But now he threw it; striding + + Into the hall he spake: +"I see the billows riding + A ship, whose timbers shake; +I see some sailors dying + Already on the strand, +And two strong giants, trying + To bring the rest to land." + +O'er waves no longer foaming, + The noble earl looked out: +"That is Ellide coming, + And Fridthjof too, no doubt; +His step, so firm and steady, + Bespeaks him Thorstein's son. +Such brow, and smile so ready, + In Northland there is none." + +Then viking Atle sturdy + Sprang up at one swift bound; +Black-bearded berserk, bloody, + And fiercely looked around. +"Now, I will prove," he thunders, + "What rumor means by this, +That all blades Fridthjof sunders, +And never sues for peace." + +And with the doughty viking, + His twelve best champions start, +And in the air sharp striking, + They brandish sword and dart. +They storm the strand, where by it + The weary dragon lay; +But Fridthjof, sitting nigh it, + Looks ready for the fray. + +"Quite easy could I fell thee," + The noisy Atle cries: +"No one comes here, I tell thee, + But either fights or flies. +If peace thou ask'st, believe me,-- + I fight, but am no churl,-- +In friendship I'll receive thee, + And lead thee to the earl." + +"Although I'm scarcely rested," + Is Fridthjof's sharp reply, +"Our good swords must be tested, + Before for peace I cry." +Then swift the sun-brown fighter + His flashing sword-blade swung, +Bright glowed the runes and brighter + On Angervadil's tongue. + +Blows fell without cessation, + Now deadly blows like rain, +And now in quick rotation + Each shield is cleft in twain. +Unhurt, with wrath unspoken + They stand within the ring,-- +Now Atle's sword is broken +And Fridthjof's sword is king. + +Said he: "A swordless foeman + I've no desire to slay; +But if you will, as yeomen, + We'll try another way." +As waves 'gainst waves are pushing, + And breaking crest on crest, +So on each other rushing, + They wrestled breast to breast. + +They fought like two bears trying + Their strength on crust of snow, +Or, as o'er mad waves flying + The eagle meets his foe. +The firm earth trembled round them, + Though based on solid rock, +And oaks, though strong roots bound them, + Could scarce withstand the shock. + +Their brows with sweat were beaded, + Their breasts heaved with a sound, +The brush and stones unheeded, + They scattered all around. +The twelve in expectation + Stood quaking on the sand; +Renowned through every nation + That struggle on the strand. + +But Fridthjof was the stronger, + He felled his foe at last, +And said with fiery anger, + His knee on Atle's breast: +"Had I my good sword ready, + Thou berserk blackbeard, now +Thy miserable body + I'd straightway plunge it through." + +"Go bring it! Who'll prevent thee?" + Is generous Atle's cry, +"And if it will content thee, + As now I'll quiet lie. +Why should it make me sorrow? + For all must Valhal see; +I go to-day--to-morrow + Perhaps thy turn will be." + +Then Fridthjof quick returning, + Desired to end the fray; +Raised Angervadil burning,-- + But Atle quiet lay. +The falling blade ne'er harmed him, + For Fridthjof struck the sand; +Such courage had disarmed him, + He took brave Atle's hand. + +With gleeful admonition + Old Halvard swung his staff: +"For your battle-meal potation + There's nothing here to quaff; +Upon the board hot-smoking + The silver dishes glow; +A cold meal is provoking, + And thirst annoys me so.' + +Appeased, with friendly feeling, + The portals they pass through, +And here from floor to ceiling, + To Fridthjof all was new. +Rough planks well matched together + Lined not the spacious hall, +But 'broidered golden leather + Was stretched along the wall. + +The center was not littered + By mortared hearthstone wide; +A marble fireplace glittered, + Built up against the side. +No smoke 'mid rafters flitted, + No roof with soot spread o'er; +Glass panes the windows fitted, + A lock secured the door. + +No woollen torches crackling, + Illumed the champions' feast, +But waxen candles, sparkling, + In silver sconces placed. +A roasted stag, well larded, + The table's center graced; +Gold bands his raised hoof guarded, + With flowers his horns were dressed. + +Beside each champion sitting, + A youthful maiden stood,-- +An evening star, bright flitting, + Behind a stormy cloud +The blue eyes beamed, in showers + The gold-brown tresses flowed, +Complete as sculptured flowers + The little rose-lips glowed. + +On silver stool, high mounted, + Sat Angantyr, the old; +His helm shot rays uncounted, + His corselet was of gold. +His mantle, rich and splendid, + With golden stars was strewn,-- +And where the purple ended, + The spotless ermine shone, + +Three steps the earl descended + To Fridthjof genially +He said, with hand extended: + "Come higher, sit by me. +Of horns I've emptied many + With Thorstein in his day; +His son, more famed than any, + Shall not sit far away." + +He filled each goblet brimming + + With wine from Sicily,-- +Like sparks of fire 'twas gleaming, + And foaming like the sea. +"Welcome!" exclaimed the speaker, + "My friend's most worthy son! +To Thorstein fill a beaker,-- + And drink now, every one!" + +Now woke the harpstring's slumbers, + A skald from Morven's hills, +In Gaul's melodious numbers, + Sad hero-songs he trills. +But Thorstein's praise was chanted + In old Norwayan tongue; +His noble deeds were vaunted, + His daring valor snug. + +The earl asked much concerning + His friends of days gone by; +In words replete with learning + Young Fridthjof made reply. +A judgment given blindly, +Swift accusation brings, +He spoke like Saga, kindly, +Remembering holy things. + +And when he there recounted + How Helge goblins sent, +Which first the blue waves mounted, + Then, conquered, downward, went, +The champions cheered him loudly, + And Angantyr the same,-- +In high approwd, proudly, + They echoed Fridthjof's name. + +But when he spoke in anguish, + Of Ing'borg in her bloom, +How she was left to languish, + Her heart with grief o'ercome,-- +Each maiden's cheek was burning, + Each bosom sore distressed; +And to her lover turning, + His faithful hand she pressed. + +His embassy to mention + He ventured by and by; +The earl gave pleased attention, + And then he made reply: +"I ne'er was tributary; + King Bele's health, maybe, +To drink was customary, + But from his law we're free. + +"His sons, I do not know them; + If tribute they demand, +Custom the way will show them, + We'll meet them on the strand, +And see who best is reckoned; + But Thorstein was my friend." +His daughter then he beckoned, + Who sat quite near at hand. + +Then rose the maiden tender, + From stool all golden bound, +Her waist is trim and slender, + Her bosom full and round, +Each dimpled cheek encloses + An Astrild, roguish sprite, +As when on opening roses, + The butterflies alight. + +She hastened to her bower, + A green silk purse she brought, +With bird and tree and flower + And beast 'twas deftly wrought; +On seas were white-winged vessels, + Beneath the silver moon, +Of gold were all the tassels, + The clasp with rubies shone. + +She placed the dainty treasure + Within her father's band; +He filled it, brimming measure, + With coin from foreign land. +"This welcome gift is only + A tribute to a friend; +And now the winter lonely + Consent with us to spend. + +True courage knows no danger, + But Heyd and Ham, I fear, +Revived await the ranger, + And winter storms are here. +All foes the deep is hiding, + Ellide may not shun, +And many whales are riding + The waves, though conquered one." + +With jesting and potation + The hours till day were spent, +Without inebriation + The wine-cup gladness lent. +A brimming skoal was given + To Angantyr at last; +So Fridthjof in this haven + The cheerful winter passed. + + + +XII. + + +THE RETURN. + +Now spring is breathing in skies of blue, +And earth her carpet has woven anew, +And Fridthjof grateful his kind host leaving +Again the billowy plain is cleaving, +And gayly speeding through silver-spray, +His black swan ploweth her sunny way. + +The western breezes that spring is bringing, +Like nightingales in the sails are singing, +And AEger's daughters in veils of blue +About the rudder their sports pursue. +Ah, how delightful when safely clearing +A foreign land, to be homeward steering! +When memory pictures the smoke that curled +Above one's hearthstone, his childhood's world, +The fount where playing his swift feet hurried, +The honored graves where his dead are buried. +He thinks of her who perchance may be +On high cliffs standing to watch the sea. +Six days he sailed on his way returning, +The seventh a strip of blue discerning +Low down the horizon, he neared it fast, +Saw rock and islet and land at last. +That land is his; from the waves advancing, +He sees green forests in sunlight dancing. +He hears the roar of the foaming streams, +Can trace each cliff which with granite gleams, +Salutes the headland and sound, then glideth +Along by the groves where his Ing'borg bideth. +Thinks how last summer each evening fair, +With her beside him he wandered there. +"Where is she? Guesses she not her lover +Is near her, safely the blue waves over? +Perhaps, removed from her Balder's care, +She strikes the harp in the palace, where +Her grief she'd lessen, her needle plying." + +Then sudden rises his falcon, flying +From temple turret, then downward flits +To Fridthjof's shoulder, and there he sits, +As was his wont, of his love to assure him. +From Fridthjof's shoulder can none allure him, +He scratches fast with his gold-tipped claws, +He gives no quiet, he makes no pause. +To Fridthjof's ear now his beak he bendeth, +Perchance some loved one a message sendeth; +Is it Ingeborg? Wildly his pulses bound, +But none interprets the broken sound. + +Ellide gayly the headland rounding, +Skips lightly on, like a roebuck bounding. +Familiar waters surround the prow +Where happy Fridthjof is standing now. +He rubs his eyes and his hand he places +Above his brow to discern the traces +Of home so dear; but he looks in vain,-- +Of Framness ashes alone remain. +The naked chimney stands lone and dreary, +Like warriors' bones of their grave-mounds weary; +The garden place is a blackened floor, +The ashes whirl round the wasted shore. +In bitter mood from his ship he hasteth, +Around the ruins his eyes he casteth, +His father's dwelling, his childhood's pride. +Then faithful Bran with the shaggy hide, +Comes running toward him, each moment faster,-- +Of forest bears had he oft been master; +How high he springs in his gladsome glee, +How leaps with pleasure his friend to see. +The milk-white steed he so oft had ridden +Comes bounding up from the valley hidden, +With swan-like neck and the frame of a hind +And gold mane floating upon the wind. +He curves his neck and he stamps while standing, +His food from Fridthjof's own hand demanding; +But Fridthjof, poorer by far than they, +Has nought to give them,--he turns away. + +Unsheltered, sorrowful stands the rover; +He looks at the meadow and grove burnt over,- +Of Hilding's coming quite unaware, +His foster-father with silver hair. +"At what I see I can scarcely wonder, +When eagles flit then their nests are plunder. +'Tis Helge's deed lest the land be wroth, +So well he keeps his crowning oath! +To hate mankind and to gods be loyal, +While blackened homes mark his progress royal! +More grief it gives me and less of pain; +But where does my Ingeborg meanwhile remain?" +"The word I hear," Hilding said in sadness, +"I fear will bring you but little gladness. +You scarce had sailed when king Ring came on, +Five shields I counted against our one. +In Disar-dale did we prove our valor,-- +The river foamed with a crimson color. +King Halfdan's jest and his laugh arose, +So too the sound of his manly blows. +My shield I held as a buckler o'er him, +Well pleased with fruits his bravery bore him. +Not long indeed did the battle last. +King Helge yielded, and flying fast, +Though asa-blood in his veins was welling, +In passing Framness he fired the dwelling. +Before the brothers the choice was placed, +To give their sister to Ring, disgraced. +(By her alone could his wrongs be righted), +Or give their throne for his offer slighted. +Then hither and thither the messengers hied, +But now has Ring carried home his bride." + +"O woman, woman!" said Fridthjof, scorning, +"Old Loke's thought should have been a warning; +His thought a lie, was in woman's form, +To man he sent it his heart to warm, +A blue-eyed lie that with tears alarms us, +Forever cheats and forever charms us; +A rose-checked lie with bust defined, +Of spring-ice virtue and faith like wind; +From out whose heart folly often glances, +On whose fresh lips basest falsehood dances. +And yet how dear to my heart was she! +And dear as ever she still must be. +My wife I've called her since in the wildwood. +We played together in happy childhood. +Of high achievement if e'er I thought, +Her love alone was the prize I sought; +As stems which grow from one root together, +If Thor strikes one then they both will wither; +If one its vesture of emerald shows, +The other mantles with green its boughs. +Our lives in joy and in grief thus blended, +I cannot think of the union ended. +But I'm alone. O, thou noble Var +Who wanderest over the earth afar, +To record on gold every vow that's spoken, +Forego thy pastime, the vows are broken. +The tablet filled with but falsest lies, +The faithful gold 'gainst the insult cries. +Of Balder's Nanna I've oft been dreaming, +But truth in mortals is only seeming. +In faithfulness can no heart rejoice +Since falsehood borrows my Ingeborg's voice,-- +A voice like wind which o'er flower fields strayeth +Or harp-strings' music when Brage playeth. +I'll list no more when the harp is tried, +I will not think of my faithless bride; +Where storms are raging there will I follow, +Till blood thou drinkest, thou ocean billow. +Where swords sow seeds for pale death to reap, +On mount or vale I my vigil keep. +If king I meet and to combat dare him +I smile to think how my sword shall spare him. +But if in battle a youth I meet, +With heart enamored and visions sweet, +Deluded fool who on faith relieth, +I'll hew him down e'er the vision flyeth, +Will kindly slay him ere yet he be +Deceived, disgraced and betrayed like me." + +"The blood that's youthful no boundaries heedeth," +Old Hilding said, "how much it needeth +The cooling touch of the snows of age. +You wrong the maid with your senseless rage. +My foster-daughter beware of blaming +For adverse fortune which, heaven ordaining, +The wrathful norns upon men below +Hurl down, for none can escape the blow. +Like silent Vidar, no outward token +The maiden gave that her heart was broken. +Her grief was mute as in southern grove +The voiceless woe of the widowed dove. +To me alone who her childhood guided +Was all the pain she endured confided. +As dives the sea-fowl with wounded breast +Lest daylight's eye should upon it rest, +And there remaineth with life-blood flowing, +No sign of weakness or misery showing, +So she in darkness her suffering bore, +And only I saw her anguish sore. +She often said: 'I am but an offering +For Bele's kingdom; who talks of suffering! +The snow-drop fragrant, with leaf and vine +To deck the victim in wreaths they twine. +How sweet to die and escape from anguish! +But no, in pain must I live and languish; +For Balder's wrath will no rest allow + +My aching heart and my throbbing brow. +But tell to no one my secret sorrow, +I'd rather suffer than pity borrow; +King Bele's daughter her fate may dare,-- +But kindly greeting to Fridthjof bear.' +The wedding day with its footsteps fateful +Arrived at last. O, the day most hateful! +To the temple marched in procession sad, +The white-robed virgins and men steel-clad; +A bard dejected the train was guiding, +The pale bride followed, a black steed riding +As pale was she as the wraith which sits +On a storm-cloud black, when the lightning flits. +From off the saddle I quietly took her, +Nor at the temple door forsook her; +But led her up to the altar, where +Her vows she uttered in accents clear. +She wept and prayed, on good Balder calling, +While down her cheeks were the tear-drops falling. +When Helge saw on her arm your band, +He tore it off with an angry hand; +On Balder's image now hangs the jewel. +My wrath burst forth at this act so cruel; +My sword was by me, I drew it forth,-- +King Helge then was but little worth. +'Let be,' said Ing'borg, in accents broken, +'My brother might surely have spared this token; +How much one suffers ere death sets free,-- +The Allfather judgeth 'twixt him and me.'" + +"The Allfather judgeth," said Fridthjof slowly, +"I too would give him my judgment lowly. +Is't not now mid-summer, Balder's feast? +And in the temple the crowned priest,-- +The king, who sold the maiden tender? +Ah! yes, my judgment I fain would render." + + + + +XIII. + + +BALDER'S FUNERAL PILE. + +Midnight's sun on the mountain lay, + Blood-red was its gleaming +It was not night nor was it day, + But just between them seeming. + +Balder's bale-fire, symbol bright, + On sacred hearth was burning,-- +Soon is quenched its wasted light, + Hoder's reign returning. + +Priests around the temple wall + Burning brands were grasping; +Silver-bearded, old men all,-- + Their hard hands flint knives clasping. + +The crowned king stands the altar near; + Hark! the midnight soundeth,-- +With clash of weapons, sharp and clear, + The sacred grove resoundeth. + +"Bjorn, stand fast by yonder door, + No one must pass under, +Whosoe'er would cross the floor, + Cleave his skull asunder." + +Helge paled: he knew too well + Whose that voice so ringing. +Forth stood Fridthjof; his fierce words fell + Like autumn storm winds singing. + +"Here's the ordered tribute; it came + Safe through the tempest's rattle; +Take it; then here by Balder's flame, + For life or death we'll battle. + +"Shields behind us, our bosoms free. + Fair the fight be reckoned; +As king, the first blow belongs to thee, + Mind thou, mine's the second. + +"Caught at last is the wily fox, + Vain all thought of flying; +Think of her with the golden locks, + Of Framness wasted lying." + +Thus he spake, and the purse he'd brought, + Forth he quickly drew it, +Careless of the mischief wrought, + In Helge's face he threw it. + +Darkness swam before the eyes + Of asas' kinsman sainted; +Blood gushed forth, he could not rise, + But near his altar fainted. + +"With the gold you as tribute claim, + Are you overpowered? +None shall Angervadil blame + For felling such a coward. + +"Silence, priests with altar-knives, + Moonshine princes, quiet! +Else my sword may drink your lives; + Thirsting 'tis to try it. + +"Holy Balder, thy wrath forbear, + Nor 'gainst me enrol it: +But the arm-ring which you wear, + Yonder craven stole it. + +"Not for thee did Volund old + Work its fair dimensions; +The maiden wept, but the thief was bold; + Away, such false pretensions." + + +Bravely drew he; together fast + Arm and ring seemed growing; +Angered Balder, when loosed at last, + Fell 'mid the embers glowing. + +Hark! each flame, as it leaps on high, + A golden tooth resembles; +Bjorn, all pale, stands the doorway nigh, + Fridthjof, anxious, trembles. + +"Open, Bjorn, let the people go, + Bv watchmen unimpeded; +The temple burns; throw water, throw + The ocean full, if needed." + +Now a chain is knit to the strand, + Not a link is missing; +Flies the billow from hand to hand + Against the fire-brands hissing. + +Fridthjof sits like the god of rain + High o'er beam and water, +Gives to all his orders plain, + Calm amid the slaughter. + +Vain! the fire has the upper hand, + Smoke-clouds dense are growing, +Gold falls first on the red-hot sand, + Silver streams are flowing. + +All is lost! to the half-burned hall + A fire-red cock is clinging, +He sits and crows on the roof-peak tall, + His loosened pinions swinging. + +The wind-blown flame mounts the vaulted sky, + Everything it levels, +Balder's grove is summer dry, + The hungry fire-king revels. + +Fiercely leaping from height to height + Aiming yet still higher; +O, what wild and terrific light! + Strong is Balder's pyre! + +Hark, it crackles! the roots now burn, + The tops are fiery showers; +Muspel's ruddy children spurn + Man's mere human powers. + +A fire-sea billows in Balder's grove, + Strandless breaks and hisses, +The sun is up, but bay and cove + Mirror flaming abysses. + +Soon in smoldering ashes lay + Grove and temple's adorning; +Sadly then Fridthjof turned away,-- + Wept in the light of morning. + + + + +XIV. + +FRIDTHJOF GOES INTO EXILE + + +On deck at night +In summer bright, +Sat Fridthjof grieving; +Like billows heaving, +Now wrath, now grief, +In his heart was chief; +And shoreward turning +Saw fires still burning. + +"Thou temple reek +Fly up and seek +High Valhal's towers; +The White God's powers +Call down on me +With wrath's decree. +And tell, swift bounding, +The vault resounding, +The temple burned +To dust is turned; +The imaged glory +But lives in story. +Quick burned the god +Like common wood. +The grove protected +Nor once neglected +Since men swords bore +Is now no more; +By fire the slaying +Not time's decaying. +Forget no word +Thou hast seen or heard, +In Balder's dwelling +The story telling, +Thou message cloud +Of gods the shroud. +Long live in story +King Helge's glory, +Who exiled me +From him and thee, +My father's nation. +We'll roam creation +Where blue is king, +Where wild waves sing. +Thou canst not rest thee +Ellide, haste thee; +Earth's farthest bound +We'll sail around. +Soon thou'lt be rocking, +The sea-foam mocking, +My dragon good; +A drop of blood +Will nothing hinder +As on we wander. + +In fiercest storm +Art thou my home;-- +The one I cherished +By Helge perished. +Thou art my North +My foster-earth,-- +The other leaving +I wander grieving: +My bride caressed +In black robes dressed; +The one in lustre +I could not trust her. + +Thou ocean free, +Unknown to thee +Is king oppressive, +Untrue, aggressive. +Thy king is he +Among the free +Who trembles never +How high soever, +With wrath oppressed, +Heaves thy white breast. +Blue fields are charming +And not alarming; +There heroes plow +With keel and bow, +And blood-rain showers +In oaken bowers. +The good steel blade +Is seed-corn made. +The fields bring yearly +Not honor merely, +But gold as well. +Oh, kindly swell, +Thou ocean billow! +Thee will I follow. +My father's grave +Calm waters lave +(How still he sleepeth +Where green grass creepeth). +Mine blue shall be, +Flecked like the sea; +Forever floating, +On tempest gloating, +And fathoms deep +Draw men to sleep; +To me thou'rt given +For life a haven; +My grave thou'lt be, +Thou ocean free." + +Thus inly burning +Sang Fridthjof, turning +His prow so true +From seas he knew, +And slowly creeping +'Mid rocks still keeping +Their faithful ward +O'er shallow fjord. + +But vengeance watcheth; +King Helge fetcheth +Ten dragons out. +Thh people shout, +With breath abated: +"The king is fated; +He offers fight, +We scorn his might; +Though heaven-descended, +His reign is ended; +From earth we know +He now must go, +The blood god-given +Now longs for heaven." + +Scarce was it spoke +Ere keels of oak +By unseen power +Began to lower; +Then on and on +Are downward drawn +To Ran's safe keeping. +King Helge, leaping, +Is glad to swim +From the sinking stem. +And Bjorn, none blaming, +Laughed loud, exclaiming: +"Thou asa-blood, +The art was good; +No one detected, +Or e'en suspected, +I bored so quick,-- +A worthy trick! +May waves enfold them +And Ran still hold them +As heretofore. +It grieves me sore +That Helge misses +False Ran's cold kisses." + +In wrathful mood +King Helge stood +From death delivered; +His round bow quivered, +Though made of steel, +As toward the shoal +So hard he drew it, +Though scarce he knew it, +It clanging broke. +Then Fridthjof spoke, +His lance well aiming, +While loud exclaiming: +"A death-bird here, +Enchained I bear: +If once set; flying, +Then low is lying +Thy coward head. +By Loke led +Thy fear abuseth; +My lance, refuseth + +A coward's blood; +It is too good +For food so craven; +Its worth be graven +On funeral stone, +But not upon +A name which beareth +The stain thine weareth. +One exploit brave +Sank 'neath the wave; +The next one failed thee, +Nor aught availed thee; +Thy bow rust broke, +Not thou. The stroke, +When I aspire, +Is set much higher, +As thou mayst see +'Tis far from thee." + +His carved oar limber +Was fir-tree timber,-- +A mast-fir tall, +From Gudbrand's dale. +Taking another, +With both together +He rowed amain; +Like arrowy cane +Or steel blade brilliant +Were the oars resilient. +The sun climbs up +The mountain slope, +The winds, advancing +From land, to dancing +In morning's light +The waves invite. +Where foam-crest swimmeth +Ellide skimmeth +On joyous wings; +But Fridthjof sings: + +"Thou front of creation, + Exalted North! +I have no station + On thy green earth. +Thy lineage sharing + My pride doth swell, +Thou home of daring! + Farewall, farewell! + +Farewell thou royal + Valhalla-throne! +Thou night's-eye loyal, + Midsummer sun! +Thou sky unclouded + As hero's soul! +Thou vault star-crowded! +Farewell, farewell! + +Ye mountain ranges + Where honor dwells, +Creation's changes + Your rune-face tells. +Ye lakes and highlands + I knew so well, +Ye rocks and islands, + Farewell, farewell! + +Farewell ye grave-mounds + Where the linden showers +Near azure wave bounds + The dust of flowers! +But time revealeth + And judgeth well +What earth concealeth; + Farewell, farewell! + +Farewell ye bowers, +Beneath whose shade +So many hours +By brooks I've played; +Ye friends of childhood +Ye meant me well, +I love your wildwood; +Farewell, farewell! + +My love is cheated, + My home is burned, +My shame completed, + I'm exiled, spurned. +From land appealing + To ocean's swell, +Life's joyous feeling, + Farewell, farewell! + + + + +XV. + +The VIKING CODE. + + + +Now he floated around on the desolate sea, like a + prey-seeking falcon he rode, +To the champions on board he gave justice and law; + wilt thou hear now the sea-viking's code? + +"Make no tent on thy ship, never sleep in a house, for + a foe within doors you may view; +On his shield sleeps the viking; his sword in his hand, + and his tent is the heavenly blue. + +See how short is the shaft of the hammer of Thor, but + an ell's length the sword blade of Frey; +'Tis enough, for your weapon will ne'er be too short if + you dare near the enemy stay. + +"When the storm rageth fierce, hoist the sail to the top,-- + O how merry the storm-king appears; +Let her drive! let her drive! better founder than strike, + for who strikes is a slave to his fears. + +"Never take on thy vessel the land-sheltered maid; were + she Freyja herself she'd ensnare; +For the dimples she wears are but pitfalls for men, and + a net is her free flowing hair. + +"Wine is Allfather's drink, and the cup is allowed if you + only can use it with sense; +He who falls on the land may arise,--who falls here he + to Ran, the sleep-giving, goes hence. + +"If a merchant sail by, you must shelter his ship, but + the weak will not tribute withhold; +You are king of the waves, he a slave to his gains; and + your steel is as good as his gold. + +"Let your goods he divided by lot or by dice, how it + falls you may never complain; +But the sea-king himself takes no part in the lots,--he + considers the honor his gain. + +"If a viking-ship come, there is grappling and strife, + and the fight 'neath the shields will rejoice; +If you yield but a pace you are parted from us; 'tis the + law, you may act by your choice. + +"If you win, be content; he who praying for peace + yields his sword, is no longer a foe; +"Prayer's a Valhalla-child, hear the suppliant voice; he's + a coward who answereth no. + +"Wounds are viking's reward, and the pride of the man + on whose breast or whose forehead they stand; +Let them bleed on unbound till the close of the day, if + you wish to be one of our band." + +Thus his law was enrolled,--and his name, every day, + through all foreign coasts grew renowned; +For his like was not seen on the blue-rolling sea, nor the + valor his champions crowned. + +Then he sat by the rudder and sullenly gazed in the + depths of the blue rocking tide; +"Thou art deep; in thy depths thriveth peace, it may + be, but it thriveth not here where we ride. + +"Is the White God enraged? Let him take up his sword, + I will fall if it thus is designed; +But he sits in the skies, and the thoughts he sends + down which forever are clouding my mind." + +When the conflict came on, then his spirit arose like an + eagle refreshed for its flight; +And his brow it was clear, and his voice it rang high,-- + like the thunderer first in the fight. + +So from conquest to conquest unbroken he went, and + was safe o'er the high, foaming grave; + +And he saw in the south many islands and rocks, till + he came to the calm Grecian wave. + +When he saw the green groves that stand out from the + waves, and the temple before him uprose, +What he thought Freyja knows, and the poet knows too, + and the lover, he knows, ah! he knows! + +"Here we ought to have dwelt, here's the island and + grove, here the fane as my father set forth. +It was here, it was here I invited my love, but the cruel + one staid in the North. + +"Surely peace has its home in those blissful green dales,-- + in the colonnades, memory's words; +Like the whisper of love are the murmuring founts, and + a bride-song the voice of the birds. + +"Where is Ingeborg now? Hath forgotten me quite for + the gray-haired and withered old king? +I can never forget, but my life I would give, if one sight + of my love it would bring. + +"Now three years have passed by since the land I beheld + where heroic achievement prevails; +Tower the honored mounts yet to the heavenly blue? is + it green in my forefathers' dales? + +"On the grave where my father is laid I once planted + a tree; can it be it lives now? +And who cares for the weakling? Thou earth give it + moisture, and dew, kindly heaven, give thou. + +"But why linger I longer on far distant waves, taking + tribute and striking men down? +For my soul but despises the glittering gold, and I've + gained quite enough of renown. + +"There's a flag on the mast and it points to the North, + in the North is the land I hold dear; +I will follow the course of the heavenly winds, and back + to the Northland I'll steer." + + + + +XVI. + +FRIDTHJOF AND BJORN. + + +Bjorn, I am weary of riding the sea, + Turbulent traps are the billowy fountains; + Northland's firm earth and her long cherished mountains, +Wondrous attractions, are calling to me. + Happy is he by his land unrejected, +No one denies him his father's green grave; + Too long, alas, have I wandered dejected, +Outlawed, afloat on this wilderness wave. + +BJORN. + +Good is the sea, your complaining you squander, + Freedom and joy on the sea flourish best; + He never knoweth effeminate rest, +Who on the billows delighteth to wander. + When I am old, to the green growing land +I too will cling, with the grass for my pillow; + Now I will drink and will fight with free hand, +Now I'll enjoy my own sorrow-free billow. + +FRIDTHJOF. + +Now hath the ice indeed chased us to land, + Close round our keel are the stiffened waves dozing; + Let me not waste the long winter reposing +Here among rocks on this desolate strand. + Let me once more keep the Yule banquet olden, +Guest of king Ring and the bride of my choice; + Let me once more see those waving locks golden, +Hear the sweet tones of that well-beloved voice. + +BJORN. + +Good! to king Ring it shall be my glad duty, + Something to teach of a wronged viking's power; + Fire we the palace at midnight's still hour, +Scorch the old graybeard and bear off the beauty. + Or, being viking you may think it right +Honor to grant the old man by a duel: + Challenge him out on the ice for a fight,-- +Whatever you will, only waiting is cruel. + +FRIDTHJOF. + +Speak not of firebrands, to war give no thought,-- + Peace would I bear to the king, and not terror; + Ring nor his partner committed the error-- +Heavenly vengeance my punishment sought, + Little of hope is now left worth the telling, +Only farewell would I take of my dear,-- + Final farewell. When the green buds are swelling, +Sooner it may be, you'll see Fridthjof here. + +BJORN. + +Fridthjof, 'tis time for your folly's abating; + Sigh and lament for a false woman's loss! + Earth is, alas, but too full of such dross; +One may be lost, still a thousand are waiting. + Say but the word, of such goods I will bring +Quickly a cargo,-- the Southland can spare them, + Red as the rose, mild as lambs in the Spring; +Then we'll cast lots, or as brothers we'll share them. + +FRIDTHJOF. + +Bjorn, you're as frank and as joyous as Frey, + Bold to wage war and with wisdom advising; + Odin and Thor you ne'er think of despising,-- +Freyja, the heavenly, you dare to gainsay. + Let us not question her power supernal, +Rather beware lest we waken her ire; + Once, though now slumbering, the sparkle eternal +Mortals and gods shall enkindle to fire. + +BJORN. + +Go not alone, lest return be prevented. + +FRIDTHJOF. + + Singly I go not, my sword goes with me. + +BJORN. + + Hagbert, remember, was hanged to a tree. + +FRIDTHJOF. + +Who can be taken, to hang has consented. + +BJORN. + + Fallest thou then, on thy murderer fell +Carve I the blood-eagle, vengeance bestowing. + +FRIDTHJOF. + +Needless, fond Bjorn, he'll not hear the cock crowing + Longer than I do. Farewell, fare thee well. + + + + +XVII. + +FRIDTHJOF COMES TO KING RING. + + +King Ring in state was seated at Yule-time drinking mead. +And with him sat his consort, so white and rosy red; +They seemed like Spring and Autumn. when both together seen,-- +The king was chilly Autumn, fresh Spring the fair young queen. + +A man, unknown, there entered within the spacious hall, +From head to foot enveloped, a bear-skin covering all; +And though by staff supported, and bent with age and care, +He stood a head the taller than any champion there. + +He chose for seat to rest him a bench beside the door,-- +'Tis now the poor man's station, as 'twas in days of yore; +The courtiers all laughed loudly, with many a gibe and jest, +And with the finger pointed to him in bear-skin dressed. + +The stranger's eyes flashed lightning which made his anger felt, +And quick a young man seizing with one hand, by the belt, +Both up and down he turned him; then ceased the gleeful din, +For all the rest were silent,--so you and I had been. + +"What causes such an uproar? who dares disturb our peace? +Old man, come here and answer, and let the tumult cease; +Your name, your place, your errand; come, answer if you can." +Thus spake the angered monarch to the half-concealed +old man. + +"You ask me many questions, I'll answer every one: +My name (I will not give it) belongs to me alone; +My birthplace was misfortune, my heritage is want,-- +I hither came but lately from wolf so fierce and gaunt. + +"In youth I rode a dragon upon the waters blue, +Its wings were stout, and gayly and safely too it flew; +But crippled now and frozen, it leaves the land no more, +And I, grown old and weary, burn salt upon the shore. + +"I came to see thy wisdom, renowned so far and wide; +And when they met me rudely (for scorn I'll not abide), +One idiot by the girdle I grasped, and turned him round, +For that I beg your pardon,--though now he's safe and sound." + +"Thy words are wisely chosen," said Ring, "I must agree; +The aged should be honored, come sit thee here by me; +Slip off these false disguises and let thy form appear,-- +Disguise is foe to pleasure, and pleasure ruleth here." + +The guest now loosed the bearskin,--it fell from off his head, +Where stood old age decrepit, each saw a youth instead,-- +From off whose noble forehead, and round whose shoulders brave, +The light locks fell and floated in many a golden wave. + +In azure velvet mantle, he then stood forth erect, +His belt a silver girdle with forest beasts bedecked,-- +Embossed by cunning workman, each figure deftly traced, +And round and round the hero they each the other chased. + +A massive golden circlet his sinewy arm displayed; +His battle-sword hung by him as though the lightning stayed; +A hero glance about him he cast from time to time, +And stood as Balder beauteous, as Asa-Thor sublime. + +Surprised, the queen's cheeks quickly with changing color glow, +As northern lights so ruddy paint fields of driven snow; +As two twin water lilies, alarmed by tempest's swell, +Stand swinging on the billow, her bosom rose and fell. + +The horn a shrill blast sounded, then silence reigned throughout; +The hour for vows was coming, and Frey's boar now they brought; +His mouth contained an apple, wreaths on his neck were laid, +His four knees bent beneath him upon a silver cade. + +King Ring, his gray locks flowing, arose and straight-way now +The boar's head gently touching, he thus declared his vow: +"I swear to conquer Fridthjof, the champion in war, +So help me Frey and Odin, and. likewise mighty Thor." + +Then with a smile defiant uprose the stranger tall, +A look of wrath heroic spread o'er his features all,-- +He smote with sword the table till through the hall it rang; +And up from oaken benches the steel-clad warriors sprang. + +"And now, sir king, please listen while I my vow shall tell,-- +Young Fridthjof is my kinsman, and so I know him well; +'Gainst all the world I'll shield him, I give you here my word, +So help me now my norn, and likewise my good sword." + +The king then laughed. "Right daring, methinks, your speech," said he, +"But in this Northland palace shall all fair words be free; +My queen, fill him a bumper of wine, the very best,-- +I hope that through the winter he'll here remain our guest." + +The queen then took the goblet, before her it was placed,-- +A rare and costly jewel, which once the ure's head graced; +It stood on feet of silver, and on its golden bands +Were runes of high achievement, engraved by skillful hands. + +With downcast eyes she reached him the goblet, brimming filled,-- +But with a hand so trembling that wine thereon was spilled: +As evening's shades so ruddy upon the lilies glow, +So gleamed the drops of ruby on hand as white as snow. + +The guest the horn accepted with reverential bow,-- +Not two men could have drained it, as men are reckoned now,-- +Without an instant's waiting the strong man, at a draught, +The lovely queen to honor, the brimming ruby quaffed. + +The skald at table seated, his waiting harp brought forth, +And sang a heartfelt story of true love in the North,-- +Of Hagbert and of Signe; and at the deep tones' peal +Each warrior's heart was melted, though clad his breast in steel. + +He sang of Valhal's mansions, of heroes' blest reward, +Of ancient deeds of valor, on fields of wave and sward; +Then grasped each hand its sword-hilt, then flashed each eye intent,-- +And quickly round the table the foaming mead-horn went. + +And lively was the drinking within that royal hall,-- +An honest Yule carousal engaged the champions all; +The sleep that followed after no care or anger stained; +But Ring, the aged monarch, with Ingeborg remained. + + + + +XVIII. + +THE RIDE ON THE ICE. + + +King Ring to a banquet his queen would take, +The ice like a mirror o'erspread the lake. + +"Go not on the ice," said the stranger bold, +"It may break, and the bath is too deep and cold." + +"The king," answered Ring, "is not easily drowned, +Whoever is fearful let him go round." + +The stranger was angered and sullen frowned,-- +Then quickly his skates to his feet he bound. + +The sledge-horse sets out, he is strong and free,-- +His nostrils are flaming, so glad is he. + +"Strike out," cried the monarch, "my charger good, +And show if you are of the Sleipner blood." + +As swift as a storm on the sea his speed; +The prayers of the queen does the king not heed. + +The stranger in mail on his skates is not still, +But passes them swiftly whenever he will. + +He writes many runes on the ice besides,-- +And over her name lovely Ingeborg rides. + +They swiftly speed onward, the lake to span, +But under them lurketh the treacherous Ran. + +Her silvery roof in a trice she breaks, +And catches the sled in the hole she makes. + +The cheeks of the beautiful queen turn pale; +Then comes like a whirlwind the skater in mail. + +He buries his skate in the ice, to clasp +The steed's flowing mane in his iron grasp. + +With one single effort his arm the swings, +And charger and sled to the firm ice brings. + +"That stroke," said Ring, "was a noble one,-- +Not Fridthjof, the strong, could have better done." + +So they all returned to the house of the king,-- +The stranger remaining until the spring. + + + + +XIX. + +FRIDTHJOF'S TEMPTATION. + + +Spring is coming, song-birds twitter, woods are leafing, smiles the sun; +Dancing downward, toward the ocean, see the loosened rivers run; +Glowing like the cheeks of Freyja, from the buds the roses ope,-- +Hearts of men to life awaken, full of courage, love and hope. + +Ho! the chase! the aged monarch with his queen will go to-day; +Now in crowds the court assembles, waiting in confused array,-- +Bows are clanging, quivers rattling, steeds impatient paw the ground; +Hooded falcons, wildly shrieking, make the echoing hills resound. + +See! the queen appears! Poor Fridthjof, do not thither cast your eye; +Sits she on her milk-white palfrey like a star in spring's clear sky,-- +Half a Freyja, half a Rota,--lovelier far than either one,-- +From her dainty hat of purple, plumes are waving in the sun. + +Look not on those eyes so heavenly,--of those golden locks beware! + +Oh! take care! that form is supple, full that bosom, oh! take care! +Look not where the rose and lily shifting hues alternate fling; +Listen not to those loved accents, sighing like the winds of spring. + +Now the hunting troop is ready. Hark, through hills and valleys all +Sounds the horn, the falcon loosened straight ascends to Odin's hall; +Forest denizens in terror haste to seek their cavern-homes; +But, with spear outstretched before her, each valkyrie swiftly comes. + +Aged Ring no longer follows where the eager hunter flies; +By his side alone rides Fridthjof, silent, grave, with downcast eyes. +Darkest thoughts, and full of anguish, stir within his sorrowing breast, +And wherever he may wander, haunting voices banish rest. + +"Oh, the sea! why did I leave it? thus to my own peril blind! +Sorrow thrives not on the billow, scattered 'tis by every wind. +Broods the viking? danger cometh bidding him the lance prepare; +Vanish then all sad reflections, blinded by the weapon's glare. + +"Here, a longing, past describing, flaps its wings about my brow, +And like one asleep and dreaming, to and fro I wander now; +Balder's precincts I remember, nor forget the oath she gave. +'Twas the gods, not she, who broke it,--gods relentless as the grave. + +"For they hate the race of mortals, on their joy with anger look, +So to deck cold winter's bosom, they my tender rose-bud took; +What does Winter with my blossom? Can he understand its worth? +Nay, but bud and stem and leaflet, clothes in ice with frosty breath." + +Thus bewailed he. Soon they came into a dark and lonesome dell, +Gloomy, crowded 'twixt two mountains; o'er it densest shadows fell. +Then the monarch halted, saying: "See how lovely, fresh and deep! +I am weary and would rest me, fain would have a moment's sleep." +"Sleep not here, for hard and chilly is the ground, O king, indeed: +Up, thy sleep will not refresh thee, let me back the monarch lead." + +"Like the other gods, sleep cometh unexpected. Does my guest," +Said the king with feeble accents, "grudge his host a moment's rest?" +Fridthjof then took off his mantle, and outspread it 'neath a tree; +And the king, in trusting friendship, laid his head on Fridthjof's knee; +Soon he slept as sleeps the hero after battle's rude alarms, +On his shield, or as an infant cradled in his mother's arms. + +As he slumbers, hark! there singeth from a branch a coal-black bird; +"Hasten, Fridthjof, slay the gray-beard, free your mind by discord stirred; +Take the queen, she's thine by promise; thee the bridal kiss she gave, +Human eyes do not behold thee; deep and silent is the grave." + +Fridthjof listens; hark! there singeth from a branch a snow-white bird: +"Though no human eye behold thee, Odin sees and hears each word; +Coward, wilt thou murder slumber? Slay an old defenceless man? +Win what else, the crown of heroes is not won by such a plan." + +So sang both the birds, but Fridthjof, snatching up his battle-blade, +Flung it from him with a shudder, far into the gloomy glade. +Black-bird flew away to Nastrand, airily the other one, +Singing, sweetly as a harp-tone, straightway mounted toward the sun. + +Suddenly the old man wakens. "Much that sleep was worth to me; +Guarded by a brave man's weapon, sleep is sweet beneath a tree. + +Yet I do not see your weapon; where has fled the lightning's twin? +What has parted you who never in your lives have parted been?" + +"Little matters it," said Fridthjof, "'tis not hard to find a sword; +Sharp its tongue, O king. and never speaks for peace a single word; +Haunted 'tis by evil spirit, black, from Niflheim it roams, +Sleep is here in danger from it, seeking silver locks it comes." + +"I, O youth, have not been sleeping, but to prove you have I tried; +Man or sword a wise man testeth, ere in them he will confide. +You are Fridthjof; since you entered first my hall I've known you well; +Ring, though old, at once detected what his guest would fain conceal. + +"Wherefore, thus into my dwelling, crept you nameless, in disguise? +Wherefore, but to cheat and rob me, and my bride bear off a prize? +Honor, Fridthjof, sits not nameless, hospitality's rude guest; +Bright its shield as sun at noonday, on its face all eyes may rest. + +"Fame had told us of a Fridthjof, whom both men and gods revere; +Shields he cleft and temples wasted, bold and brave, without a fear. +Soon with war-shield, so I reasoned, he will come against my land; +And he came, but clad in tatters, beggar's staff within his hand. + +"Wherefore now cast down your eyelids? Once, like you, I too was young; +From the first is life a struggle, and fresh youth its _Berserk-gang_. +Hardly pressed and tried it must be, that its onset triumph not; +I have proved you and forgiven. I have pitied and forgot. + +"Now am I grown old and weary, in the grave shall rest me soon, +Therefore take O youth, my kingdom, take my queen, she is thine own; +Be my son, till then remaining still my guest as heretofore. +Swordless champion shall protect me and our feud exist no more." + +"As a thief," said Fridthjof sadly, "came I not, O king, to thee; +Had I wished thy queen to capture, tell me, who had hindered me? +But my bride, though lost forever, wished I to behold once more; +Fool was I! anew I kindled flames which were half quenched before. + +"In thy halls too long I've tarried; here I must no longer stay. +Gods unreconciled their anger rest upon me day by day; +Balder, with the light locks flowing, loveth all mankind but one; +Only I am now rejected; see, he hateth me alone}! + +"Yes, l set on fire his temple. Fane-profaner call they me. +Children shriek when I am mentioned, joy and gladness from me flee; +Northland casteth out the lost one, and in anger cries--depart! +In my native land I'm outlawed, I am outlawed in my heart. + +"I will seek for peace no longer on the earth, so green and sweet, +Trees no more their shade aford me, burns the ground beneath my feet. +Ingeborg I've lost forever; she, my bride, accepted Ring, +From my life the Sun has vanished, night and noonday darkness bring. + +"Therefore hence to ocean's billow! Out, away my dragon good, +Bathe again thy pitch-black bosom in the briny boiling flood; +Wave in clouds thine inky pinions, let the sea a path prepare, +Fly as far as star can guide us, far as conquered billows bear. + +"Let me hear the rolling thunder, let me hear the lightning's voice; +When it thunders all around me, Fridthjof's heart will then rejoice; + +Clang of shields and rain of arrows! Let the sea the battle fill; +Purified, I'll then fall gladly, reconciled to heaven's will." + + + +XX. + +KING RING'S DEATH. + + + + Golden mane flowing, + Skinfaxe duteous +Draweth the spring sun more bright than before; + Morning beams glowing + Doubly as beauteous, +Sport in the hall;--there's a knock at the door. + + Though his heart grieveth, + Enters the stranger; +Pale sits the king, while the queen's gentle breast + Billow-like heaveth; + Singeth the ranger +A song of departure, with sorrow oppressed. + + "Bathes now the billow + Winged steed flying, +Sea-horse is longing to flee from the strand; + Glad will he follow + Him who is hieing +Far from his home and his well beloved land. + + "The arm-ring I give thee, + Ing'borg, receive it. +Holiest memories with it remain. + Ne'er let it leave thee: + Fridthjof, believe me +Truly forgives. Thou'lt not see him again. + + "No more beholding + The smoke's upward motion +Northland I'll see. Truly man is a slave; + Fate is unyielding; + Far on the ocean +There is my fatherland, there is my grave. + + "When in your roaming + Stars the vault cover, +Go not with Ingeborg down to the strand; + Lest in the gloaming + You should discover +Fridthjof, the outlawed, cast up on the sand." + + "Sad is the hearing," + Ring said, replying, +"When a man moans like a weak maiden's sigh. + Valhal is nearing, + E'en now the sighing +Death song I hear. Every mortal must die. + + "No one can frighten, + Or by complaining +Change the allotment the norns have set down; + Sorrow thou'lt lighten + O'er the land reigning,-- +Take thou my queen, for my son guard the crown. + + "True is it spoken, + Loved and respected +Peaceful I've reigned, over mountain and vale; + Yet have I broken + Shields, unprotected, +Landward and seaward, without turning pale. + + "Now shall the bleeding + Geirs-odd relieve me,-- +Dying in bed ill befits Northland's kings; + Not worth my heeding, + Death shall receive me,-- +Life's pain is equal to that which death brings." + + Then carved he rightly + Letters all glowing,-- +Death runes to Odin on arm and on chest; + Shine now so brightly + Blood-drops o'erflowing, +Dyeing the silvery hair on his breast. + + "Bring for my drinking + The horn with wine flowing; +Skoal to thy honor, thou land of my birth! + Minds deeply thinking, + Harvest fields growing,-- +Peaceful exploits have I loved on the earth. + + "Vain amid slaughter + Bloody and daring, +Sought I for peace,--she fled in dismay. + Now the mild daughter + Of heaven appearing, +Beckons me hence to Valhal away. + + "Hail ye immortals! + Sons of high heaven! +Earth disappears; Gjallarhorn to a feast + Opens the portals; + By the gods given, +Blessedness crowns as a helmet the guest!" + + Speaking intently, + Ing'borg's hand loyal, +Also his son's, and his friend's, too, he pressed; + Eyelids close gently,-- + Spirit so royal +Flies with a sigh to the Allfather's breast. + + + + +XXI. + +RING'S DRAPA. + +Sepultured sits he, +Sovereign descended, +Battle sword by him, +Buckler on arm; +Chafes his good charger +Champing impatient, +Pawing with gold-hoof +The gate of the grave. + +Ring, great in riches, +Rideth o'er Bifrost; +Bends with its burden, +Bridge of the gods. +Wide for his welcome +Valhal it opens, +Hands to the hero +Heaven extends. + +Absent is Asa-Thor, +Active in warfare. +Beckoned by Odin +The beaker is brought; +Frey the king graces +With garlands of grain-ears, +Blossoms the bluest +Binds Frigg therein. + +Graspeth the gold-string, +Gray-bearded Brage, +Stiller now sigheth +The song than before; +Freyja the faithful, +Fondly reclining. +Bends o'er the board and +Burneth to hear. + +"Sing high the smiting +Of sword upon helmet, +Boisterous billows, +Bloody for aye; +Power, the gift of +Gods ever gracious, +Bitter as berserk +Biting the shield. + +"Hence was the hero-king, +Heaven-born dear to us, +Showing his shield +A shelter for peace. +Power's embodiment +Plainly impersonate, +Soared like a sacrifice- +Smoke to the sky. + +"Words full of wisdom +Wise Odin chooseth +Sitting with Saga +Sokvabek's maid. +Such, too, the saying +Spoke by the monarch, +Fair as of Mimer +Flows the clear fount. + +"Forsete faithful +All feuds adjusteth, +Sitting serenely +By the side of Urd's spring; +Thus high enthroned +Thou, king beloved, +Potently pleadest +For peace in the land. + +"Niggard in nothing, +Near and far strewed he +Beauty and blessing, +Bought with his gold; +Gave he most gladly +Guerdon unstinted, +Sadness he solaced, +Suffering relieved. + +"Welcome, thou wisest +Winner of Valhal! +Long thou'lt be lauded, +Loved of the North. +Brage, the bearded, +Bears thee the mead-horn, +Favored of fortune, +Friend from below." + + + + +XXII. + +THE KING'S ELECTION. + +"To thing! to thing!" from dale to hill + The cry arose. +"King Ring is dead; his place to fill + A king we'll choose." + +From off the wall the peasant moves + His steel sword blue; +Its edge his practiced finger proves, + It biteth true. + +The boys admire in pleased surprise + The gleaming blue: +To lift the sword one vainly tries, + It needeth two. + +The daughter scours the helmet clean, + Bright shall it be. +And blushes, in its silvery sheen + Her face to see. + +At last he takes his shield so round. + A sun in blood; +"Hail! iron man, so strong and sound, + Thou peasant good! + +Renown and power which nations wield + From thee they draw, +In war thou art thy country's shield, + In peace its law." + +The assembly met, while sounding high + Were arms and shields, +In open thing, 'neath heaven's sky, + In fair green fields. + +Upon the thing-stone Fridthjof stands, + And with him there +A little one with shining bands + Of golden hair. + +Then rose the cry on every hand: + "Too small indeed +The king's son is to rule our land, + Our wars to lead." + +But Fridthjof on his shield raised up + The little boy: +"Ye Norsemen, here behold your hope, + Your king, your joy. + +"High Odin's race embodied here + In image see, +As much at home 'mid shield and spear, +As fish in sea. + +"I swear my lance and sword to set + Round land and throne, +And with the father's coronet +To crown the son. + +"The oath I make to Balder's son* + Of high renown, +And if I fail, may he not shun + To strike me down." + +*Forsete + +The boy sat on the shield so high + As 'twere a throne~ +Undaunted as the eaglet's eye + Looks toward the sun. + + +At last impatient grew his blood, + And to the ground, +The child leaped down and fearless stood ;-- +A kingly bound! + +Then rose the cry from all the thing: + "We of the North, +We choose but thee, be like king Ring, + Thou shield-borne youth. + +"And Fridthjof shall a guardian be, + Thy youth to guide; +His mother, earl, we give to thee, + To be thy bride." + +But Fridthjof frowned: "To-day," said he, + "Election make, +But not a bridal; leave to me + A bride to take. + +"To Balder's temple I'll repair, + I go to see +The norns who are already there + Awaiting me. + +"With them a council I have willed, + The shield-maids true,-- +Beneath the tree of time they build, + Above it too. + +"Against me Balder's anger sore + Doth still abide; +He took, he only can restore + My cherished bride." + +Saluting then the monarch new, + He kissed his brow. +And o'er the broom-heath passed from view, + Silent and slow. + + + + +XXIII. + +FRIDTIMOF AT HIS FATHER'S GRAVE. + + +"How brightly smiles the sun, so friendly seeming. + As swift from branch to branch its soft rays glide! +Allfather's light within the dew-drop gleaming, + Is clear and pure as in the ocean wide. +See! all the mountain tops with red are streaming,-- + From Balder's altar flows the bloody tide; +In night will shortly sink the world's commotion, +As sinks the golden shield beneath the ocean. + +"Yet let me first behold those well known places, + My childhood friends that I have loved so well; +The same sweet beauty still the valley graces, + The same birds yet alight in wood and dell; +The same blue wave the stable rock embraces,-- + Oh, would I ne'er had tried its treacherous swell! +It always speaks of fame and high endeavor, +But far from home it bears thee on forever. + +"I know thee, stream, whose waters erst were freighted + With swimmer bold, who with thy billows fought! +I know thee, too, thou vale where oft we plighted + Eternal faith! Alas! earth holds it not! +Ye birchen trees, whose bark I carved delighted + With many runes, still wedded to the spot +Your white stems stand, crown-capped with sunshine golden, +All save myself unchanged since days now olden. + +"Is all unchanged? Where, then, is Framness' dwelling, + And Balder's temple on the sacred shore? +At thought of childhood's dales my heart is swelling. + But fire and sword devoured them, they're no more. +Of human vengeance, of God's wrath their telling + To wanderers over blackened field and floor; +Thou pious pilgrim, come not here to ponder, +For forest beasts in Balder's grove now wander. + +"With Nidhug's curse each human life is teeming,-- + The cruel tempter from the land of shade, +He hates the asa-light with glory beaming + On hero's brow and on his shining blade; +Each coward deed, each act of wrathful scenting, + Is his, a tribute unto darkness paid; +He wins when temples burn and gods are slighted, +He claps his coal-black hands and laughs delighted. + +"Is there no expiation, radiant heaven? + Thou blue-eyed god, dost thou no penance take? +Man pardons man who has for pardon striven. + When men atone the gods their wrath forsake; +By thee, the mildest one, I'm unforgiven ;-- + Command, and any sacrifice I'll make; +No will had Fridthjof in the temple's burning; +Oh! stainless make his shield, thine anger turning. + +"Thy burden take away, I cannot bear it, + The dark wood's music in my soul doth cry. +A moment's fault! cannot a life repair it,-- + An upright life? Then hear my contrite sigh! +If Thor's fierce bolt should strike, I still would dare it: + Nor shrink to meet the look of Hel's pale eye. +Thou pious god, who moonlight glances bendest, +'Tis thee I fear, and vengeance which thou sendest. + +"My father's grave is here. The hero sleepeth;-- + Alas! whence he has gone none ever roam; +A starry tent his home, no more he weepeth, + Where shields rejoice and brimming mead-horns foam; +Thou asa-guest, from heaven look down where keepeth + His weary watch thy child. O father, come! +I bring not runes nor charms, but bending lowly +Would learn to appease pale Balder holy. + +"Still silent is the grave? Ah yes, and cruel. + A sword roused Angantyr within his grave; +A sword is naught,--Tirfing a trifling jewel + Compared with what I ask. A sword the brave +Can gain on battle field or in a duel, + Forgiveness from the asas' home I crave; +Bear thou my plea, my sorrowing look to heaven, +No rest have noble minds if unforgiven. + +"Thou'rt silent, father! Hear the waves resounding, + And send thy loving word by their sweet cry; +Now flies the storm, on its swift pinions bounding. + O, whisper to me as it flieth by; +See golden rings the western sky surrounding, + Let them the message give which words deny. +No sign or answer for thy son forsaken? +How poor indeed are those whom death has taken!" + +The sun is quenched. The evening breeze is stealing + Upon earth's children with its lullaby, +And sunset tints in myriad circles wheeling + Around the brim of heaven's rosy sky, +O'er hill and dale their azure hues revealing, + A vision now of Valhal passeth by; +Then unexpected comes with rustling motion, +An image, gold and flames from western ocean. + +A wondrous Hagring now the heavens covers. + (The name that Valhal gives hath lovelier sound), +And over Balder's grove it gently hovers. + A golden chaplet set in emerald ground; +Resplendence everywhere the eye discovers, + Such lustre mortals ne'er before had found. +It stops and sinks to earth, not disappearing, +But where the temple stood, a temple rearing. + +An imaged Breidablik its wall upreareth, + (So burnished silver on the cliff had shone), +Each pillar cut of deep blue steel appealeth, + The altar is a single precious stone, +A power unseen the vaulted roof upbeareth, + A winter sky with sparkling stars o'erstrewn; +And there with golden crowns and robes befitting, +Of azure splendor. Valhal's gods are sitting. + +With rune-writ shields, the maids of fateful power, + The noble norns, within the portal stand,-- +Three rosebuds springing in a single flower, + A grave and yet a fascinating band; +While Urd is pointing to the ruined tower,-- + The new one Skuld doth greet with welcome hand; +But scarce restored is Fridthjof, filled with blended +Delight and wonder, ere the scene is ended. + +"From you, Time's maidens, comes illumination,-- + Thine, hero-father, is the token good: +The wasted shrine I'll build on sure foundation, + In beauty shall it stand where erst it stood; +How excellent to thus make expiation, + By peaceful deeds to atone for actions rude! +The outcast still may hope who sues in meekness,-- +The White God softens, and forgives his weakness. + +"All hail, ye myriad stars in splendor beaming! + With joy I watch you silent tread the skies; +And welcome, Northern-lights. above me streaming,-- + No more a flaming temple to mine eyes: +Grow green, O grave! and from the wave bright gleaming, + Thou wondrous melody again arise. + +I'll sleep upon my shield, and dream how heaven +Forgets the faults its mercy hath forgiven. + + + + +XXIV. + +THE RECONCILIATION. + + +Completed now was Balder's temple. Not enclosed +As heretofore with fence of wood; of hammered steel, +With golden knobs upon each bar, was built the fence +Round Balder's ground. Like steel-clad champions ranged for war, +With halberds and with golden helms, there stood it now +On guard around the sanctuary of the god. +Of giant stones alone the massive wall was built, +And joined with active skill, a noble giant work +For all eternity (as is Upsala's shrine,) +Where Norseland saw its Valhal in an earthly mold. +It stood there in its grandeur on the mountain cliff, +And mirrored in the ocean wave its lofty brow, +While round about it, like a zone of beauteous flowers, +Far stretched the dale of Balder with its sighing groves. +Its song of birds, a home where peace might reign supreme. +High rose the copper-bolted portal, and within +Two colonnades supported on strong omoplates +The vaulted canopy, and beautiful it hung +Above the temple, like a concave shield of gold. +At farthest end stood Balder's altar. It was hewn +From one huge block of northern granite: round it coiled +A graven serpent, covered o'er with written runes, - +Profoundest thoughts from Vala and from Ha'vama'l; +But in the wall above was left an open space,-- +A dark blue ground all filled with golden stars; and there +A silver image sat--the pious god--as calm +And mild as sits the silver moon in heaven's blue. +Thus seemed the finished shrine. In couples entered now +Twelve temple virgins, clad in robes of silver gauze, +With roses glowing on their cheeks, and roses in +Their guileless hearts. Before the image of the god, +Around the altar newly consecrate they danced, +As light spring winds above the flowing fountains flit, +As dance the forest elves amid the waving grass. +While yet the morning dew. like pearls, lies glittering there. +And while they danced they joyful sang a sacred song +Of pious Balder, and how dearly he was loved +By every being; how he fell 'neath Hoder's dart, +And earth and sea and heaven wept. Yet sounded not +The song as though 'twere uttered by a human voice, +But as a tone from Breidablik, from Balder's home; +Or like the thought of lover to a lonely maid +When pipes the quail his deep notes in the hush of night, +And over northern birches falls the moonlight soft. +Enraptured Fridthjof stood; he leaned upon his sword, +And gazed upon the dance. Sweet childhood's memories thronged +His vision by,--an innocent and pleasant folk, +With smiling eyes reflecting heaven's blue, with heads +Surrounded hy a halo of bright locks, they waved +A kindly salutation to their childhood's friend. +Then sank the bloody shadow of his viking life, +With all its conflicts, all its perilous exploits, +Down into night, and in his fancy stood he forth +A flower-crowned monument above their grave. +And ever, as the song increased, his spirit soared +From earthly dales below to Valaskjalf above; +Then melted human hate and human vengeance, too, +As melts the icy coat of mail from off the cliff, +When shines the sun in spring. A sea of quiet peace. +Of silent ecstasy, possessed his hero-soul; +It was as if he felt the heart of nature beat +Against his own; as if, deep moved, he fain would fold +Creation in his brotherly embrace, and be at peace +With every living creature seen of God. +Then came into the temple Balder's priest most high, +Not young and beauteous as the god, but tall in form, +With heavenly mildness beaming in his noble face, +While down about his girdle flowed his silver beard. +An unused reverence possessed proud Fridthjof's heart; +The eagle wings upon his helmet meekly drooped +Before the aged man, who thus spoke words of peace: +"Son Fridthjof, welcome hither I've expected thee; +The strong man gladly roves around the earth and sea, +A berserk-like, who pallid bites the shield's hard edge, +But weary grown, and thoughtful, wanders home at last. +The powerful Thor went many times to Jotunheim,-- +But spite his belt divine and gloves of finest steel, +Still sits the Utgard-Loke on his lofty throne; +For evil is itself a power, and will not yield,--- +And piety not joined with power is children's play: +'Tis like the sunbeams on the breast of AEger thrown,-- +An image faint, which falls and rises with the wave, +Foundationless and insecure, devoid of trust. +But power not joined with virtue eats itself away, +As rust the buried sword. 'Tis life's unchecked carouse; +The heron of oblivion hovers o'er the cup, +And when the drinker wakes, he blushes for his deed. +All power is from the earth of Ymer's body formed; +Wild waves and flowing waters are the veins therein, +From various metals are its tough strong sinews forged, +And yet 'tis empty, desolate, unfruitful, till +The sun its light and warmth, heaven's piety, sends down. +Then spring the grass and flowers a web of many hues; +The tree lifts up its crown and knits its golden fruit,-- +And man and beast are nourished at the mother's breast. +'Tis thus with every child of Ask. Opposing weights +Has Odin laid within the scales of human life,-- +And when they balance true, then even stands the beam; +And heavenly piety and earthly power they're called. +The power of Thor is great whene'er about his loins, +Immovable, he girds the belt of strength and strikes. +Indeed is Odin wise, when Urd's clear silver fount +He looketh down, and birds swift flying come to bring +The Asas' father tidings from the world's extreme: +Yet both turned pale, the radiance of their starry crowns +Was half extinguished when the pious Balder fell,-- +The band was he of all the diadems of heaven. +Then withered on the tree of time its splendid crown, +And Nidhug gnawed upon its root; then were loosed +The powers of aged night. The Midgard serpent flung +Toward heaven its poison-swollen tail, and Fenris howled, +And Surt's swift fire-sword flashing gleamed from Muspelheim. +Since then wherever thou mayest look the strife goes on, +A war throughout creation. In Valhal crows +The cock with goldcn comb. Upon and 'neath the earth +The blood-red cock to battle calls. There once was peace +Not only where gods dwell, but also on the earth; +In man's as in the high gods' thoughts was peace. +Whate'er has happened here below has also chanced +In greater measure there; humanity is but +An image frail of heaven; it is as Valhal's light +Reflected in the shield of Saga writ with runes. +Its Balder hath each heart. Remember'st thou the time +When dwelt within thy breast sweet peace a guest, and life +As joyful seemed, as heavenly calm, as song bird's dream +When summer night-winds to and fro so gently wave +Each fragrant blossom sleeping in its bed of green? +Then holy Balder still abode in thy pure soul, +Thou asa-son, thou wandering image of high heaven. +For childhood Balder is not dead, and Hela gives +Again her prey us often as a child is born. +With Balder also groweth up in every soul +His brother Hoder, blind, the child of night; for blind +At birth is evil always, like the young of bears, and night +Its mantle, but the good of earth rejoice in light. +The tempter, busy Loke, always ready stands +To guide the blind one's murderous hand. The missile oft +To Valhal's love is sent, to Balder's tender breast. +Then Hate awakes and Violence upon its prey +Springs forth; the hungry sword-wolf prowls o'er hill and dale. +And fiercest dragons wild swim o'er the bloody waves. +For this meek Piety a powerless shadow sits +One dead among the dead, and with him pallid Hel, +And in its ashes Baldur's sanctuary lies. +So too the asa's life on high prefigures that +Mere human life below, and both are but the thoughts, +The silent thoughts of Odin which can never change. +What hath been, what shall be, that the song profound +Of Vala knows,--Time's lullaby, its drapa too. +Creation's annals have a melody the sam. +And man may hear his own life's history therein. +Dost comprehend or not? 'Tis Vala asketh thee. +Thou seek'st atonement; know'st thou what atonement is? +Oh, Fridthjof, look me in the eye and turn not pale! +Round earth a mediator goes, his name is Death. +A spark translucent, from eternity, is time: +All earthly life is but the refuse from Allfather's throne; +Atonement is to there return all purified. +The lofty asas fall themselves, and Ragnarok +The day of their atonement is, a bloody day +On Vigrid's hundred miles of plain; there will they fall, +But fall not unavenged, for there the evil die +Forever, but the fallen good arise again, +Refined, from out the flaming pyre to higher life. +'Tis true the star-crown, pale and withered, falleth down +From heaven's temple; earth too, sinks beneath the sea, +But brighter is it born again, and joyous lifts +Its flower crowned head from out the seething waves,-- +And new created stars pursue with god-like glance +Their silent pathway round about the new-born earth. +But on the green hill-slopes will Balder govern then +The new-born asas, and a human race renewed. +The golden tablets filled with runes, lost long ago, +In Time's fresh morning, then are found amid the grass +On Ida's plain, by Valhal's children reconciled. +The fallen good in death are only tried by fire; +It is atonement made, a birth to higher life, +Which, purified, flies back to him from whom it came, +And plays a guileless child upon its father's knee. +Alas! that all the best is found beyond the grave,-- +That gate of green which Gimle opens; vile is all, +Contaminated all that dwells beneath the stars. +And yet there is atonement found in life itself,-- +A humble prelude to the peace of heaven above. +'Tis like the broken chords the minstrel strikes upon +The harp, when he with skillful fingers wakes the song; +The tone attuning with a gentle hand, before +With firmer touch he grasps the golden strings,-- +Grand memories of old alluring from their grave, +While Valhal's splendor streameth on enraptured eyes. +For earth, indeed, is only heaven's shadow, life +The grounds in front of Balder's temple in the sky. +The people sacrifice unto the gods; the steed +Bedecked with gold and purple is an offering made. +A token this with meaning most profound,--for blood +Tints red the morning light of each atonement day. +But signs are not the substitute, they can not atone, +Thine own transgressions no one can amend for thee. +In Odin's breast divine the dead are reconciled; +Atonement for the living lies in their own hearts. +One offering, I know, unto the gods more dear +Than smoke of victims. 'Tis the sacrifice of thine +Own vengeance, and thy heart's untamed and bitter hate. +Canst thou not silence them, and canst thou not forgive, +O youth? What wilt thou then in Balder's sacred house? +With what intent hast thou this holy temple reared? +With stones is Balder not appeased. Atonement dwells +Below, as up above, alone where dwelleth peace. +With all thy foes and with thyself be reconciled. +The light-haired god will then be reconciled with thee. +They have a Balder in the south--the virgin's son, +Who by the Allfather wise was sent to explain the runes +Upon the norns' black shield rand,--unexplained before. +His battle-cry was peace, his conquering sword was love; +And blameless sat the dove upon his silver helm. +He holy lived and taught, he died and he forgave,-- +And under distant palms his grave in sunlight lies. +From dale to dale his followers wander, it is said. +And melting hardened hearts, and laying hand in hand +Establish peace upon the reconciled earth. +I do not know the doctrine well, but dimly have I +In my better moments guessed what it may mean,-- +And every human heart at times divines as well. +I know the time will come when it will lightly wave +Its white dove-pinions over all our northern hills; +But that day come, the North will be no more to us; +The oaks will sigh above our long-forgotten graves. +Oh, fortunate and blessed race! Ye who shall drink +The sparkling beaker of that light, I bid you hail! +It will be well if it can drive away the cloud +Whose humid covering hitherto has veiled life's sun. +But scorn not us, who, in sincerity, have sought +With unaverted gaze to find the light divine. +The Allfather is but one, though many herald him. + +"Thou hatest Bele's sons. And wherefore hatest thou? +Because to thee, a yeoman's son, they did not choose +To give their sister, who belongs to Seming's race.-- +The noble son of all-wise Odin. Their descent extends +To Valhal's throne,--and pride of birth is theirs. +Thou sayest that birth on fortune, not on worth, depends. +Of merit all his own, O youth, is no one proud,-- +But only of his fortune; for the best of things +Are only God's good gifts to man. Art thou not proud +Of thy heroic deeds, of thy superior strength? +Who gave thee thy great strength? Did Asa-Thor not knit +Thy sinewy arms as firm and close as oaken boughs? +And is it not God's spirit high which joyous beats +Within the citadel of thine arched breast? Is not +The lightning God's which flashes in thy fiery eyes? +Beside thine infant cradle sang the haughty norns +The prince-song of thy life; for that thy merit is +No whit the greater than the king's son's for his birth. +Lest thy pride be condemned another's censure not. +King Helge now is fallen." + Here broke Fridthjof in: +"King Helge fallen? When and where?" + + "Thou canst but know +That while thou here wert building, he was on the march +Among the Finnish mountains. On a lonely crag +There stood an ancient shrine. To Jumala 'twas built +Abandoned long ago,--the door was now fast closed; +But just above the portal still there stood a strange +Old image of the god, now tottering to its fall. +But no one dare approach, for there a saying rife +Among the people went from age to age, that he +Who first the temple sought should Jumala behold. +This Helge heard, and, blinded by his furious wrath, +Went up the ruined steps against the hated god,-- +Intent to cast the temple down. When there arrived +The gate was closed,-- the key fast rusted in the lock. +Then grasping both the door-posts, hard and fierce he shook +The rotten pillars. All at once, with horrid crash, +Down fell the ponderous image, crushing in its fall +The Valhal-son. And thus he Jumala beheld. +A messenger last night arrived the tidings bore. +Now Halfdan sits alone on Bele's throne. To him +Thy hand extend, to heaven thy vengeance sacrifice. +That offering Balder asks, and I, his priest, require +In token that the peaceful god thou mockest not. +If thou refuse, this temple then is built in vain, +And vainly have I spoken." + + Then stepped Halfdan in, +Across the copper threshold, and with doubtful look +He stood aloof from him he feared and silence kept. +Then Fridthjof loosed the breastplate-hater from his side, +Against the altar placed his shield's bright golden orb, +And weaponless approached his silent waiting foe. +"In such a strife," said Fridthjof, in a kindly voice, +"The noblest he who offers first his hand for peace." +King Halfdan blushed, then off he drew his glove of steel, +And hands long separated met in friendly clasp,-- +A hearty hand-shake, steadfast as the mountain's base. +And then the aged priest revoked the ban which on +The outlawed temple-violater long had lain. +'Twas scarce dissolved ere entered [Ingeborg, attired +In bridal robes and ermine mantle, with her maids,-- +So glides the moon, whom stars attend, in heaven's vault; +With tear-drops in her lovely eyes, she fell upon +Her brother's neck; but he, with deep emotion, laid +His sister, grown more dear, on Fridthjof's faithful breast; +And o'er the altar of the god she gave her hand +To him, her childhood's early friend, her heart's beloved. + + + + +GLOSSARY. + + + +For such explanations as are not found in the original notes we are chiefly +indebted to Prof. R. B. Anderson, of the University of Wisconsin, and to his +valuable work, NORSE MYTHOLOGY. We are also under obligations to Mrs. E. +Hasselqvist, of the Augustana College of Rock Island, Illinois. + +AEGER. The god of the stormy sea. +AEGER'S BOSOM. The sea. +ALFHEIM (elf-home). Frig's dwelling. +ANGANTYR. A champion who was slain in a duel hy Hjalmar the vigilant, and was +buried with his sword Tirfing. His daughter Hervar called upon her dead father +for the sword, and, according to the story, was answered. See Canto XXIII. +ANGERVADIL (grief-wader). Fridthjof's sword. +ASA. God. It is used as a prefix, as Asa-Thor, Asa-Loke. etc. +ASA-SONS. A people who came from Asia and. settled the North, and who claimed +descent from the gods. +ASGARD. Home of the gods. +ASK. The first man. +ASTHILD. Cupid. +BALDER (the best). The mildest, the wisest and the most eloquent of the gods. +He is the god of innocence, the White God. + "Balder dies in nature when the woods are stripped of their foliage, when the +flowers fade and the storms of winter howl. Balder dies in the spiritual world +when the good are led away from the paths of virtue, when the soul becomes +dark and gloomy, forgetting its heavenly origin. Balder returns in nature when +the gentle winds of spring stir the air, when the nightingale's high note is +heard in the heavens, and the flowers are unlocked to paint the laughing soil, +when light takes the place of gloom and darkness. Balder returns in the +spiritual world when the lost soul finds itself again, throws off tho mantle +of darkness, and like the shining spirit soars on wings of light to heaven, to +God who mgve it." See NORSE MYTHOLOGY, p. 294. +BAUTA-STONE. A rough stone set up at warriors' graves, and having no +inscription. +BERSERK (bear-coat). The old Northern athletes or champions wore the skins of +bears, wolves or reindeer, and went into battle with loud cries, wearing no +armor. +BERSERK-GANG. The onset of the berserks. +BIFROST (the trembling way). The rainbow, the bridge of the gods. +BJORN (a bear). Notice the play upon this word in Canto X, p. 94: + "Bjorn attend the rudder, + Grip it with a bear's paw." +BLOOD-EAGLE. When a foe deserved especial cruelty, he was put to death by +carving the picture of an eagle on his back. see Canto XVI, p. 150. +BRAGE. God of poesy: a son of Odin. +BRAN. Fridthjof's dog. +BREIDABLIK (broad-gleaming). Balder's abode. +BURN SALT. A common expression for making salt. +DELLING (day-spring). Dawn. +DELLING'S SON. Day. +DISARSAL. The temple of the goddesses. +DRAGON. A war vessel. See description of Ellide, Canto III, p. 3O. +DRAPA. A funeral hymn, reciting the virtues of the deceased. +EFJE-SOUND. A sound in the Orkney Islands. +FAFNER. A son of Hreidmar and brother of Regin and Otter. Fafner and Regin +demanded of their father a share of the gold obtained of Odin as Otter's +ransom. Hreidmar refused, and Fafner slew his father, and, taking all the +gold. assumed the form of a dragon and fled. He concealed tho gold on Gnita +heath, where he was found by Sigurd, who, at the instigation of Regin, slew +Fafner. He accomplished this by digging a pit in Fafner's path and concealing +himself therein until the dragon passed over him, when he thrust his sword +through Fafner's heart. See NORSE MYTHOLOGY, p. 377; also the story of the +Volsungs and Niblungs, translated by Magnusson and Morris. Sweden, 1870. +FAFNER'S BANE. The slayer of Fafner; Sigurd. +FENRIS. A wolf, and one of Loke's children. Chained by the gods until +Ragnarok, he gets loose and conquers Odin, but is himself slain hy Vidar. +FOLKVANG (the folk-field). Freyja's dwelling. +FORSETE (the presider). Son of Balder and Nanna. The god of justice. +FOSTER-BROTHER. It was customary in the North, when two persons entered into +friendship for life and death, or, as it was called, foster-brothership, that +each wounded himself and allowed his blood to mingle with the other's. See, +concerning Fridthjof and Bjorn, Canto III, p. 34. +FREY (a lord). The god of harvests: the dispenser of wealth. +FREYJA. Frey's soster, and goddess of love. +FRIGG. The wife of Odin and mother of Balder. +FUTHORC. The runes taken collectively are properly called the futhorc, the +word being made up of the names of the first of the runes. Compare "alphabet". +GEFJUN. The goddess of maids. +GEIRS-ODD (spear-death). Death by the spear, self-inflicted. See Valhal. +GERD. Frey's wife, and very beautiful. +GIMLE. The heaven of heavens, where dwell the righteous after Ragnarok. +GJALLARHORN. The horn of Heimdal, the Saint Peter of the old mythology. It was +heard all over the world. +GLITNER (the glittering). Forsete's golden dwelling. +GRONING-SOUND. A sound between the Danish Islands. +GUDBRAND'S DALE. Canto XIV, p. 138. in the diocese of Aggerhus, celebrated +afterward (1612) for a battle in which the Norwegians slaughtered the forces +of Col. St. Clair, the Scotch ally of Christian IV, of Denmark. +HAGBART. the sea-king, who became secretly betrothed to Signe, of Princess, +thereby gaining the enmity of her father, who captured and hung him. Signe, +unwilling to survive her betrothed, set fire to her dwelling and was burned to +death.--See Cantos XVI and XVII. +HAGRING. Fata morgana. +HA'VAMA'L. The high song of Odin, containing many wise precepts for the +government of men. +HEL. The goddess of death. +HILDER. The goddess of war. +HODER. The blind god; brother of Balder. Tempted by Loke, he slew Balder with +the mistletoe. +IDA'S PLAIN. Where the gods assemble after Ragnarok. +IDUN. Wife of Brage. She is the rejuvenating goddess, the "ever-renovating +spring," and hence she is dressed in green. --See Canto I, p. 5. She keeps +the apples of immortality. +JOTUNHEIM. The abode of the Giants. +LOKE. The evil one. "He is the sly treacherous father of lies. In appearance +he is beautiful and fair, but in his mind he is evil, and in his inclinations +he is inconstant. Notwithstanding his being ranked among the gods, he is the +slanderer of the gods, the grand contriver of deceit and fraud, the reproach +of gods and men. Nobody renders him divine honors. He surpasses all mortals in +the arts of perfidy and craft." -See NORSE MYTHOLOGY, page 373. +MIDGARD. The earth; the abode of man. +MIDGARD-SERPENT. A child of Loke. It was cast into the sea by Odin, and it +grew till it reached around the whole world. +MIMER. The wise giant keeper of the holy well of wisdom. +MORVEN'S HILLS. Hills in the north of Scotland. +MUSPELHEIM. The abode of fire. +MUSPEL'S SONS. Flames. +NANNA. Balder's wife; goddess of flowers. She died heartbroken at Balder's +death. +NASTRAND (the shore of corpses). Where the wicked are punished after Ragnarok. +NIDHUG. The dragon which lives in the fountain Hvergelmar and gnaws the root +of Ygdrasil. +NIFLHEIM. The world of mists; the lower world; the place of punishment. +NORNS. The Fates. They are three: Urd, the past; Verdande, the present, and +Skuld, the future. They control the destinies of gods and men. +ODER. Freyja's husband. +ODIN. The chief of the gods. He is the all-pervading spirit of the world, the +governor of the universe, the author of war and the inventor of runes and of +poetry. In appearance he is old, tall, one-eyed and long-bearded. He wears a +broad-brimmed hat and a many-colored coat, and carries a spear called Gungner. +ODIN'S BIRDS. Odin has two ravens, Hugin and Munin (reflection and memory), +which every day fly around the world and return to him with intelligence of +all that happens. +PEASANT. The piece of lowest rank in chess; a pawn. +RAGNAROK (the twilight of the gods). The day of the destruction of the world, +and of the regeneration of gods and men. See Canto XXIV. +RAN (the robber). Goddess of the sea; wife of AEger. +ROTA. One of Valhal's maidens; a valkyrie. +RUNES. The letters of the ancient Scandinavian alphabet were called runes +(secrets). The runes were sixteen in number, and previous to the introduction +of Christianity they were supposed to have been invented by Odin himself. A +knowledge of them was for a long time confined to a few, who use them for the +purposes of sorcery. +RUNE-STONE. A stone inscribed with runes, and set up at graves or elsewhere as +a monument. +SAGA. Goddess of history; hence a history. +SEMING. A son of Odin. The early kings of Norway traced their lineage +directly to Seming. +SIGNE. See Hagbart +SKINFAXE (shining mane). The horse of Day. +SKOAL. A health. +SKULD. The future. See Norns. +SLEIPNER (the slipper). Odin's course with eight feet. +SOKVABEK. Dwelling of Saga. +SURT. God of fire. +THING (pronounced ting). A deliberative assemblage of Norsemen, composed of +all who were capable of bearing arms. It was held in the open air. The +thingsmen expressed approval of any measure by striking the shield with the +sword. +THOR. The second of the gods; the thunderer; the subduer of the frost giants. +He has a red beard; his weapon is a short-handled hammer called Mjolner. He +is girt with a belt of strength, and wears iron gloves. His sons are Magne and +Mode, strength and courage. +URD. The past. See Norns. +URD'S FOUNT. The fountain from which the norns sprinkled the tree Ygdrasil. +UTGARD-LOKE. The Loke of the Giants,--called Utgard, because he dwelt in the +uttermost parts of the world, Jotunheim. +VALA. A prophetess. +VALASKJALF. Odin's dwelling. +VALHAL (the hall of the slain). Only those who fell by wounds received in +battle, or self-inflicted, were entitled to the joys of Valhal, where they +were feasted by Odin and attended by the valkyries. +VALKYRIES (choosers of the slain). Goddesses who serve in Valhal and go on +Odin's errands. +VAR. The goddess who presides over marriages. +VEGTAM. A name assumed by Odin when he went to consult the vala concerning the +fate of Balder.--See NORSE MYTHOLOGY, page 281. +VIDAR (forest). The silent god; a son of Odin. He slays the Fenris-wolf at +Ragnarok. +VINGOLF (floor of friends). Freyja's dwelling. +VOLUND. A renowned smith corresponding to Vulcan. +YGDRASIL. An ash tree; the tree of the world. The norns sprinkled the top +with water from Urd's fountain and thus kept it alive, although Nidhug gnawed +its roots. +YMER. An enormous giant slain by the gods, and of whose body they created the +world. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Fridthjof's Saga, by Esaias Tegne'r + diff --git a/3759.zip b/3759.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..be1957b --- /dev/null +++ b/3759.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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