Of Odin; and my high-roof’d house is built
Far hence, in Asgard, in the City of Gods:
And Sleipner, Odin’s horse, is this I ride. 115
And I come, sent this road on Balder’s track:
Say then, if he hath cross’d thy bridge or no?’
He spake; the Warder of the bridge replied: —
‘O Hermod, rarely do the feet of Gods
Or of the horses of the Gods resound 120
Upon my bridge; and, when they cross, I know.
Balder hath gone this way, and taken the road
Below there, to the north, toward Hela’s realm.
From here the cold white mist can be discern’d,
Not lit with sun, but through the darksome air 125
By the dim vapour-blotted light of stars,
Which hangs over the ice where lies the road.
For in that ice are lost those northern streams
Freezing and ridging in their onward flow,
Which from the fountain of Vergelmer run, 130
The spring that bubbles up by Hela’s throne.
There are the joyless seats, the haunt of ghosts,
Hela’s pale swarms; and there was Balder bound.
Ride on; pass free: but he by this is there.’
She spake, and stepp’d aside, and left him room. 135
And Hermod greeted her, and gallop’d by
Across the bridge; then she took post again.
But northward Hermod rode, the way below:
And o’er a darksome tract, which knows no sun,
But by the blotted light of stars, he far’d; 140
And he came down to Ocean’s northern strand
At the drear ice, beyond the Giants’ home:
Thence on he journey’d o’er the fields of ice
Still north, until he met a stretching wall
Barring his way, and in the wall a grate. 145
Then he dismounted, and drew tight the girths,
On the smooth ice, of Sleipner, Odin’s horse,
And made him leap the grate, and came within.
And he beheld spread round him Hela’s realm,
The plains of Niflheim, where dwell the dead, 150
And heard the thunder of the streams of Hell.
For near the wall the river of Roaring flows,
Outmost: the others near the centre run —
The Storm, the Abyss, the Howling, and the Pain:
These flow by Hela’s throne, and near their spring. 155
And from the dark flock’d up the shadowy tribes:
And as the swallows crowd the bulrush-beds
Of some clear river, issuing from a lake,
On autumn days, before they cross the sea;
And to each bulrush-crest a swallow hangs 160
Swinging, and others skim the river streams,
And their quick twittering fills the banks and shores —
So around Hermod swarm’d the twittering ghosts.
Women, and infants, and young men who died
Too soon for fame, with white ungraven shields; 165
And old men, known to Glory, but their star
Betray’d them, and of wasting age they died,
Not wounds: yet, dying, they their armour wore,
And now have chief regard in Hela’s realm.
Behind flock’d wrangling up a piteous crew, 170
Greeted of none, disfeatur’d and forlorn —
Cowards, who were in sloughs interr’d alive:
And round them still the wattled hurdles hung
Wherewith they stamp’d them down, and trod them deep,
To hide their shameful memory from men. 175
But all he pass’d unhail’d, and reach’d the throne
Of Hela, and saw, near it, Balder crown’d,
And Hela sat thereon, with countenance stern;
And thus bespake him first the solemn Queen: —
‘Unhappy, how hast thou endur’d to leave 180
The light, and journey to the cheerless land
Where idly flit about the feeble shades?
How didst thou cross the bridge o’er Giall’s stream,
Being alive, and come to Ocean’s shore?
Or how o’erleap the grate that bars the wall?’ 185
She spake: but down off Sleipner Hermond sprang,
And fell before her feet, and clasp’d her knees;
And spake, and mild entreated her, and said: —
‘O Hela, wherefore should the Gods declare
Their errands to each other, or the ways 190
They go? the errand and the way is known.
Thou know’st, thou know’st, what grief we have in Heaven
For Balder, whom thou hold’st by right below:
Restore him, for what part fulfils he here?
Shall he shed cheer over the cheerless seats, 195
And touch the apathetic ghosts with joy?
Not for such end, O Queen, thou hold’st thy realm.
For Heaven was Balder born, the City of Gods
And Heroes, where they live in light and joy:
Thither restore him, for his place is there.’ 200
He spoke; and grave replied the solemn Queen: —
‘Hermod, for he thou art, thou Son of Heaven!
A strange unlikely errand, sure, is thine.
Do the Gods send to me to make them blest?
Small bliss my race hath of the Gods obtain’d. 205
Three mighty children to my Father Lok
Did Angerbode, the Giantess, bring forth —
Fenris the Wolf, the Serpent huge, and Me:
Of these the Serpent in the sea ye cast,
Who since in your despite hath wax’d amain, 210
And now with gleaming ring enfolds the world:
Me on this cheerless nether world ye threw
And gave me nine unlighted realms to rule:
While on his island in the lake, afar,
Made fast to the bor’d crag, by wile not strength 215
Subdu’d, with limber chains lives Fenris bound.
Lok still subsists in Heaven, our Father wise,
Your mate, though loath’d, and feasts in Odin’s hall;
But him too foes await, and netted snares,
And in a cave a bed of needle rocks, 220
And o’er his visage serpents dropping gall.
Yet he shall one day rise, and burst his bonds,
And with himself set us his offspring free,
When he guides Muspel’s children to their bourne.
Till then in peril or in pain we live, 225
Wrought by the Gods: and ask the Gods our aid?
Howbeit we abide our day: till then,
We do not as some feebler haters do,
Seek to afflict our foes with petty pangs,
Helpless to better us, or ruin them. 230
Come then; if Balder was so dear belov’d,
And this is true, and such a loss is Heaven’s —
Hear, how to Heaven may Balder be restor’d.
Show me through all the world the signs of grief:
Fails but one thing to grieve, here Balder stops: 235
Let all that lives and moves upon the earth
Weep him, and all that is without life weep:
Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep him; plants and stones.
So shall I know the lost was dear indeed,
And bend my heart, and give him back to Heaven.’ 240
She spake; and Hermod answer’d her, and said: —
‘Hela, such as thou say’st, the terms shall be.
But come, declare me this, and truly tell:
May I, ere I depart, bid Balder hail?
Or is it here withheld to greet the dead?’ 245
He spake; and straightway Hela answer’d him: —
‘Hermod, greet Balder if thou wilt, and hold
Converse: his speech remains, though he be dead.’
And str
aight to Balder Hermod turn’d, and spake: —
‘Even in the abode of Death, O Balder, hail! 250
Thou hear’st, if hearing, like as speech, is thine,
The terms of thy releasement hence to Heaven:
Fear nothing but that all shall be fulfill’d.
For not unmindful of thee are the Gods
Who see the light, and blest in Asgard dwell; 255
Even here they seek thee out, in Hela’s realm.
And sure of all the happiest far art thou
Who ever have been known in Earth or Heaven:
Alive, thou wert of Gods the most belov’d:
And now thou sittest crown’d by Hela’s side, 260
Here, and hast honour among all the dead.’
He spake; and Balder utter’d him reply,
But feebly, as a voice far off; he said: —
‘Hermod the nimble, gild me not my death.
Better to live a slave, a captur’d man, 265
Who scatters rushes in a master’s hall,
Than be a crown’d king here, and rule the dead.
And now I count not of these terms as safe
To be fulfill’d, nor my return as sure,
Though I be lov’d, and many mourn my death: 270
For double-minded ever was the seed
Of Lok, and double are the gifts they give.
Howbeit, report thy message; and therewith,
To Odin, to my Father, take this ring,
Memorial of me, whether sav’d or no: 275
And tell the Heaven-born Gods how thou hast seen
Me sitting here below by Hela’s side,
Crown’d, having honour among all the dead.’
He spake, and rais’d his hand, and gave the ring.
And with inscrutable regard the Queen 280
Of Hell beheld them, and the ghosts stood dumb.
But Hermod took the ring, and yet once more
Kneel’d and did homage to the solemn Queen;
Then mounted Sleipner, and set forth to ride
Back, through the astonish’d tribes of dead, to Heaven. 285
And to the wall he came, and found the grate
Lifted, and issued on the fields of ice;
And o’er the ice he far’d to Ocean’s strand,
And up from thence, a wet and misty road,
To the arm’d Damsel’s bridge, and Giall’s stream. 290
Worse was that way to go than to return,
For him: for others all return is barr’d.
Nine days he took to go, two to return;
And on the twelfth morn saw the light of Heaven.
And as a traveller in the early dawn 295
To the steep edge of some great valley comes
Through which a river flows, and sees beneath
Clouds of white rolling vapours fill the vale,
But o’er them, on the farther slope, descries
Vineyards, and crofts, and pastures, bright with sun — 300
So Hermod, o’er the fog between, saw Heaven.
And Sleipner snorted, for he smelt the air
Of Heaven: and mightily, as wing’d, he flew.
And Hermod saw the towers of Asgard rise:
And he drew near, and heard no living voice 305
In Asgard; and the golden halls were dumb.
Then Hermod knew what labour held the Gods:
And through the empty streets he rode, and pass’d
Under the gate-house to the sands, and found
The Gods on the seashore by Balder’s ship. 310
III. Funeral
THE GODS held talk together, group’d in knots,
Round Balder’s corpse, which they had thither borne;
And Hermod came down towards them from the gate.
And Lok, the Father of the Serpent, first
Beheld him come, and to his neighbour spake: — 5
‘See, here is Hermod, who comes single back
From Hell; and shall I tell thee how he seems?
Like as a farmer, who hath lost his dog,
Some morn, at market, in a crowded town —
Through many streets the poor beast runs in vain, 10
And follows this man after that, for hours;
And, late at evening, spent and panting, falls
Before a stranger’s threshold, not his home,
With flanks a-tremble, and his slender tongue
Hangs quivering out between his dust-smear’d jaws, 15
And piteously he eyes the passers by:
But home his master comes to his own farm,
Far in the country, wondering where he is —
So Hermod comes to-day unfollow’d home.’
And straight his neighbour, mov’d with wrath, replied: — 20
‘Deceiver, fair in form, but false in heart,
Enemy, Mocker, whom, though Gods, we hate —
Peace, lest our Father Odin hear thee gibe.
Would I might see him snatch thee in his hand,
And bind thy carcase, like a bale, with cords, 25
And hurl thee in a lake, to sink or swim.
If clear from plotting Balder’s death, to swim;
But deep, if thou devisedst it, to drown,
And perish, against fate, before thy day!’
So they two soft to one another spake. 30
But Odin look’d toward the land, and saw
His messenger; and he stood forth, and cried:
And Hermod came, and leapt from Sleipner down,
And in his Father’s hand put Sleipner’s rein,
And greeted Odin and the Gods, and said: — 35
‘Odin, my Father, and ye, Gods of Heaven!
Lo, home, having perform’d your will, I come.
Into the joyless kingdom have I been,
Below, and look’d upon the shadowy tribes
Of ghosts, and commun’d with their solemn Queen; 40
And to your prayer she sends you this reply: —
Show her through all the world the signs of grief:
Fails but one thing to grieve, there Balder stops.
Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep him, plants and stones.
So shall she know your loss was dear indeed, 45
And bend her heart, and give you Balder back.’
He spoke; and all the Gods to Odin look’d:
And straight the Father of the Ages said: —
‘Ye Gods, these terms may keep another day.
But now, put on your arms, and mount your steeds, 50
And in procession all come near, and weep
Balder; for that is what the dead desire.
When ye enough have wept, then build a pile
Of the heap’d wood, and burn his corpse with fire
Out of our sight; that we may turn from grief, 55
And lead, as erst, our daily life in Heaven.’
He spoke; and the Gods arm’d: and Odin donn’d
His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold,
And led the way on Sleipner: and the rest
Follow’d, in tears, their Father and their King. 60
And thrice in arms around the dead they rode,
Weeping; the sands were wetted, and their arms,
With their thick-falling tears: so good a friend
They mourn’d that day, so bright, so lov’d a God.
And Odin came, and laid his kingly hands 65
On Balder’s breast, and thus began the wail: —
‘Farewell, O Balder, bright and lov’d, my Son!
In that great day, the Twilight of the Gods,
When Muspel’s children shall beleaguer Heaven,
Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm.’ 70
Thou camest near the next, O Warrior Thor!
Shouldering thy Hammer, in thy chariot drawn,
Swaying the long-hair’d Goats with silver’d rein;
And over Balder’s corpse these words didst say: —
‘Brothe
r, thou dwellest in the darksome land, 75
And talkest with the feeble tribes of ghosts,
Now, and I know not how they prize thee there,
But here, I know, thou wilt be miss’d and mourn’d.
For haughty spirits and high wraths are rife
Among the Gods and Heroes here in Heaven, 80
As among those, whose joy and work is war:
And daily strifes arise, and angry words:
But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day,
Heard no one ever an injurious word
To God or Hero, but thou keptest back 85
The others, labouring to compose their brawls.
Be ye then kind, as Balder too was kind:
For we lose him, who smooth’d all strife in Heaven.’
He spake: and all the Gods assenting wail’d.
And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears: 90
The loveliest Goddess she in Heaven, by all
Most honour’d after Frea, Odin’s wife:
Her long ago the wandering Oder took
To mate, but left her to roam distant lands;
Since then she seeks him, and weeps tears of gold: 95
Names hath she many; Vanadis on earth
They call her; Freya is her name in Heaven:
She in her hands took Balder’s head, and spake: —
‘Balder, my brother, thou art gone a road
Unknown and long, and haply on that way 100
My long-lost wandering Oder thou hast met,
For in the paths of Heaven he is not found.
Oh, if it be so, tell him what thou wert
To his neglected wife, and what he is,
And wring his heart with shame, to hear thy word. 105
For he, my husband, left me here to pine,
Not long a wife, when his unquiet heart
First drove him from me into distant lands.
Since then I vainly seek him through the world,
And weep from shore to shore my golden tears, 110
But neither god nor mortal heeds my pain.
Thou only, Balder, wert for ever kind,
To take my hand, and wipe my tears, and say: —
Weep not, O Freya, weep no golden tears!
One day the wandering Oder will return, 115
Or thou wilt find him in thy faithful search
On some great road, or resting in an inn,
Or at a ford, or sleeping by a tree. —
So Balder said; but Oder, well I know,
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Page 23
