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Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold

Page 24

by Matthew Arnold

My truant Oder I shall see no more 120

  To the world’s end; and Balder now is gone;

  And I am left uncomforted in Heaven.’

  She spake; and all the Goddesses bewail’d.

  Last, from among the Heroes one came near,

  No God, but of the Hero-troop the chief — 125

  Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets,

  And rul’d o’er Denmark and the heathy isles,

  Living; but Ella captur’d him and slew:

  A king, whose fame then fill’d the vast of Heaven,

  Now time obscures it, and men’s later deeds: 130

  He last approach’d the corpse, and spake, and said: —

  ‘Balder, there yet are many Scalds in Heaven

  Still left, and that chief Scald, thy brother Brage,

  Whom we may bid to sing, though thou art gone:

  And all these gladly, while we drink, we hear, 135

  After the feast is done, in Odin’s hall:

  But they harp ever on one string, and wake

  Remembrance in our soul of wars alone,

  Such as on earth we valiantly have wag’d,

  And blood, and ringing blows, and violent death: 140

  But when thou sangest, Balder, thou didst strike

  Another note, and, like a bird in spring,

  Thy voice of joyance minded us, and youth,

  And wife, and children, and our ancient home.

  Yes, and I too remember’d then no more 145

  My dungeon, where the serpents stung me dead,

  Nor Ella’s victory on the English coast;

  But I heard Thora laugh in Gothland Isle;

  And saw my shepherdess, Aslauga, tend

  Her flock along the white Norwegian beach: 150

  Tears started to mine eyes with yearning joy:

  Therefore with grateful heart I mourn thee dead.’

  So Regner spake, and all the Heroes groan’d.

  But now the sun had pass’d the height of Heaven,

  And soon had all that day been spent in wail; 155

  But then the Father of the Ages said: —

  ‘Ye Gods, there well may be too much of wail.

  Bring now the gather’d wood to Balder’s ship;

  Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre.’

  But when the Gods and Heroes heard, they brought 160

  The wood to Balder’s ship, and built a pile,

  Full the deck’s breadth, and lofty; then the corpse

  Of Balder on the highest top they laid,

  With Nanna on his right, and on his left

  Hoder, his brother, whom his own hand slew. 165

  And they set jars of wine and oil to lean

  Against the bodies, and stuck torches near,

  Splinters of pine-wood, soak’d with turpentine;

  And brought his arms and gold, and all his stuff,

  And slew the dogs which at his table fed, 170

  And his horse, Balder’s horse, whom most he lov’d,

  And threw them on the pyre, and Odin threw

  A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring.

  They fixt the mast, and hoisted up the sails,

  Then they put fire to the wood; and Thor 175

  Set his stout shoulder hard against the stern

  To push the ship through the thick sand: sparks flew

  From the deep trench she plough’d — so strong a God

  Furrow’d it — and the water gurgled in.

  And the Ship floated on the waves, and rock’d: 180

  But in the hills a strong East-Wind arose,

  And came down moaning to the sea; first squalls

  Ran black o’er the sea’s face, then steady rush’d

  The breeze, and fill’d the sails, and blew the fire.

  And, wreath’d in smoke, the Ship stood out to sea. 185

  Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire,

  And the pile crackled; and between the logs

  Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt,

  Curling and darting, higher, until they lick’d

  The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast, 190

  And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the Ship

  Drove on, ablaze, above her hull, with fire.

  And the Gods stood upon the beach, and gaz’d:

  And, while they gaz’d, the Sun went lurid down

  Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and Night came on. 195

  Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm.

  But through the dark they watch’d the burning Ship

  Still carried o’er the distant waters on

  Farther and farther, like an Eye of Fire.

  And as in the dark night a travelling man 200

  Who bivouacs in a forest ‘mid the hills,

  Sees suddenly a spire of flame shoot up

  Out of the black waste forest, far below,

  Which woodcutters have lighted near their lodge

  Against the wolves; and all night long it flares: — 205

  So flar’d, in the far darkness, Balder’s pyre.

  But fainter, as the stars rose high, it burn’d;

  The bodies were consum’d, ash chok’d the pile:

  And as in a decaying winter fire

  A charr’d log, falling, makes a shower of sparks — 210

  So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in,

  Reddening the sea around; and all was dark.

  But the Gods went by starlight up the shore

  To Asgard, and sate down in Odin’s hall

  At table, and the funeral-feast began. 215

  All night they ate the boar Serimner’s flesh,

  And from their horns, with silver rimm’d, drank mead,

  Silent, and waited for the sacred Morn.

  And Morning over all the world was spread.

  Then from their loathèd feast the Gods arose, 220

  And took their horses, and set forth to ride

  O’er the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdall’s watch,

  To the ash Igdrasil, and Ida’s plain:

  Thor came on foot; the rest on horseback rode.

  And they found Mimir sitting by his Fount 225

  Of Wisdom, which beneath the ashtree springs;

  And saw the Nornies watering the roots

  Of that world-shadowing tree with Honey-dew:

  There came the Gods, and sate them down on stones:

  And thus the Father of the Ages said: — 230

  ‘Ye Gods, the terms ye know, which Hermod brought.

  Accept them or reject them; both have grounds.

  Accept them, and they bind us, unfulfill’d,

  To leave for ever Balder in the grave,

  An unrecover’d prisoner, shade with shades. 235

  But how, ye say, should the fulfilment fail? —

  Smooth sound the terms, and light to be fulfill’d;

  For dear-belov’d was Balder while he liv’d

  In Heaven and Earth, and who would grudge him tears?

  But from the traitorous seed of Lok they come, 240

  These terms, and I suspect some hidden fraud.

  Bethink ye, Gods, is there no other way? —

  Speak, were not this a way, the way for Gods?

  If I, if Odin, clad in radiant arms,

  Mounted on Sleipner, with the Warrior Thor 245

  Drawn in his car beside me, and my sons,

  All the strong brood of Heaven, to swell my train,

  Should make irruption into Hela’s realm,

  And set the fields of gloom ablaze with light,

  And bring in triumph Balder back to Heaven?’ 250

  He spake; and his fierce sons applauded loud.

  But Frea, Mother of the Gods, arose,

  Daughter and wife of Odin; thus she said: —

  ‘Odin, thou Whirlwind, what a threat is this!

  Thou threatenest what transcends thy might, even thine. 255

  For of all
powers the mightiest far art thou,

  Lord over men on Earth, and Gods in Heaven;

  Yet even from thee thyself hath been withheld

  One thing; to undo what thou thyself hast rul’d.

  For all which hath been fixt, was fixt by thee: 260

  In the beginning, ere the Gods were born,

  Before the Heavens were builded, thou didst slay

  The Giant Ymir, whom the Abyss brought forth,

  Thou and thy brethren fierce, the Sons of Bor,

  And threw his trunk to choke the abysmal void: 265

  But of his flesh and members thou didst build

  The Earth and Ocean, and above them Heaven:

  And from the flaming world, where Muspel reigns,

  Thou sent’st and fetched’st fire, and madest lights,

  Sun Moon and Stars, which thou hast hung in Heaven, 270

  Dividing clear the paths of night and day:

  And Asgard thou didst build, and Midgard Fort:

  Then me thou mad’st; of us the Gods were born:

  Then, walking by the sea, thou foundest spars

  Of wood, and framed’st men, who till the earth, 275

  Or on the sea, the field of pirates, sail:

  And all the race of Ymir thou didst drown,

  Save one, Bergelmer; he on shipboard fled

  Thy deluge, and from him the Giants sprang;

  But all that brood thou hast remov’d far off, 280

  And set by Ocean’s utmost marge to dwell:

  But Hela into Niflheim thou threw’st,

  And gav’st her nine unlighted worlds to rule,

  A Queen, and empire over all the dead.

  That empire wilt thou now invade, light up 285

  Her darkness, from her grasp a subject tear? —

  Try it; but I, for one, will not applaud.

  Nor do I merit, Odin, thou should’st slight

  Me and my words, though thou be first in Heaven:

  For I too am a Goddess, born of thee, 290

  Thine eldest, and of me the Gods are sprung;

  And all that is to come I know, but lock

  In my own breast, and have to none reveal’d.

  Come then; since Hela holds by right her prey,

  But offers terms for his release to Heaven, 295

  Accept the chance; — thou canst no more obtain.

  Send through the world thy messengers: entreat

  All living and unliving things to weep

  For Balder; if thou haply thus may’st melt

  Hela, and win the lov’d one back to Heaven.’ 300

  She spake, and on her face let fall her veil,

  And bow’d her head, and sate with folded hands.

  Nor did the all-ruling Odin slight her word;

  Straightway he spake, and thus address’d the Gods:

  ‘Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray 305

  All living and unliving things to weep

  Balder, if haply he may thus be won.’

  When the Gods heard, they straight arose, and took

  Their horses, and rode forth through all the world.

  North south east west they struck, and roam’d the world, 310

  Entreating all things to weep Balder’s death:

  And all that liv’d, and all without life, wept.

  And as in winter, when the frost breaks up,

  At winter’s end, before the spring begins,

  And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in — 315

  After an hour a dripping sound is heard

  In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow

  Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes,

  And from the boughs the snowloads shuffle down;

  And in fields sloping to the south dark plots 320

  Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow,

  And widen, and the peasant’s heart is glad —

  So through the world was heard a dripping noise

  Of all things weeping to bring Balder back:

  And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear. 325

  But Hermod rode with Niord, whom he took

  To show him spits and beaches of the sea

  Far off, where some unwarn’d might fail to weep —

  Niord, the God of storms, whom fishers know:

  Not born in Heaven; he was in Vanheim rear’d, 330

  With men, but lives a hostage with the Gods:

  He knows each frith, and every rocky creek

  Fring’d with dark pines, and sands where seafowl scream: —

  They two scour’d every coast, and all things wept.

  And they rode home together, through the wood 335

  Of Jarnvid, which to east of Midgard lies

  Bordering the Giants, where the trees are iron;

  There in the wood before a cave they came

  Where sate, in the cave’s mouth, a skinny Hag,

  Toothless and old; she gibes the passers by: 340

  Thok is she call’d; but now Lok wore her shape:

  She greeted them the first, and laugh’d, and said: —

  ‘Ye Gods, good lack, is it so dull in Heaven,

  That ye come pleasuring to Thok’s Iron Wood?

  Lovers of change ye are, fastidious sprites. 345

  Look, as in some boor’s yard a sweet-breath’d cow

  Whose manger is stuff’d full of good fresh hay

  Snuffs at it daintily, and stoops her head

  To chew the straw, her litter, at her feet —

  So ye grow squeamish, Gods, and sniff at Heaven.’ 350

  She spake; but Hermod answer’d her and said: —

  ‘Thok, not for gibes we come, we come for tears.

  Balder is dead, and Hela holds her prey,

  But will restore, if all things give him tears.

  Begrudge not thine; to all was Balder dear.’ 355

  But, with a louder laugh, the Hag replied: —

  ‘Is Balder dead? and do ye come for tears?

  Thok with dry eyes will weep o’er Balder’s pyre.

  Weep him all other things, if weep they will —

  I weep him not: let Hela keep her prey!’ 360

  She spake; and to the cavern’s depth she fled,

  Mocking: and Hermod knew their toil was vain.

  And as seafaring men, who long have wrought

  In the great deep for gain, at last come home,

  And towards evening see the headlands rise 365

  Of their own country, and can clear descry

  A fire of wither’d furze which boys have lit

  Upon the cliffs, or smoke of burning weeds

  Out of a till’d field inland; — then the wind

  Catches them, and drives out again to sea: 370

  And they go long days tossing up and down

  Over the grey sea ridges; and the glimpse

  Of port they had makes bitterer far their toil —

  So the Gods’ cross was bitterer for their joy.

  Then, at heart, to Niord Hermod spake: — 375

  ‘It is the Accuser Lok, who flouts us all.

  Ride back, and tell in Heaven this heavy news.

  I must again below, to Hela’s realm.’

  He spoke; and Niord set forth back to Heaven.

  But northward Hermod rode, the way below; 380

  The way he knew: and travers’d Giall’s stream,

  And down to Ocean group’d, and cross’d the ice,

  And came beneath the wall, and found the grate

  Still lifted; well was his return foreknown.

  And once more Hermod saw around him spread 385

  The joyless plains, and heard the streams of Hell.

  But as he enter’d, on the extremest bound

  Of Niflheim, he saw one Ghost come near,

  Hovering, and stopping oft, as if afraid;

  Hoder, the unhappy, whom his own hand slew: 390

  And Hermod look’d, and knew his brother’s ghost,

&nbs
p; And call’d him by his name, and sternly said: —

  ‘Hoder, ill-fated, blind in heart and eyes!

  Why tarriest thou to plunge thee in the gulph

  Of the deep inner gloom, but flittest here, 395

  In twilight, on the lonely verge of Hell,

  Far from the other ghosts, and Hela’s throne?

  Doubtless thou fearest to meet Balder’s voice,

  Thy brother, whom through folly thou didst slay.’

  He spoke; but Hoder answer’d him, and said: — 400

  ‘Hermod the nimble, dost thou still pursue

  The unhappy with reproach, even in the grave?

  For this I died, and fled beneath the gloom,

  Not daily to endure abhorring Gods,

  Nor with a hateful presence cumber Heaven — 405

  And canst thou not, even here, pass pitying by?

  No less than Balder have I lost the light

  Of Heaven, and communion with my kin:

  I too had once a wife, and once a child,

  And substance, and a golden house in Heaven: 410

  But all I left of my own act, and fled

  Below, and dost thou hate me even here?

  Balder upbraids me not, nor hates at all,

  Though he has cause, have any cause; but he,

  When that with downcast looks I hither came, 415

  Stretch’d forth his hand, and, with benignant voice,

  Welcome, he said, if there be welcome here,

  Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me.

  And not to offend thee, Hermod, nor to force

  My hated converse on thee, came I up 420

  From the deep gloom, where I will now return;

  But earnestly I long’d to hover near,

  Not too far off, when that thou camest by,

  To feel the presence of a brother God,

  And hear the passage of a horse of Heaven, 425

  For the last time: for here thou com’st no more.’

  He spake, and turn’d to go to the inner gloom.

  But Hermod stay’d him with mild words, and said: —

  ‘Thou doest well to chide me, Hoder blind.

  Truly thou say’st, the planning guilty mind 430

  Was Lok’s; the unwitting hand alone was thine.

  But Gods are like the sons of men in this —

  When they have woe, they blame the nearest cause.

  Howbeit stay, and be appeas’d; and tell —

  Sits Balder still in pomp by Hela’s side, 435

  Or is he mingled with the unnumber’d dead?’

 

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