But he whom first thou meetest when thou com'st To Asgard, and declar'st this hidden way, Shall go; and I will be his guide unseen."

She spoke, and on her face let fall her veil, And bow'd her head, and sate with folded hands, But at the central hearth those women old, Who while the Mother spake had ceased their toil, Began again to heap the sacred fire.

And Hoder turn'd, and left his mother's house, Fensaler, whose lit windows look to sea; And came again down to the roaring waves, And back along the beach to Asgard went, Pondering on that which Frea said should be.

But night came down, and darken'd Asgard streets Then from their loathed feasts the G.o.ds arose, And lighted torches, and took up the corpse Of Balder from the floor of Odin's hall, And laid it on a bier, and bare him home Through the fast-darkening streets to his own house, Breidablik, on whose columns Balder graved The enchantments that recall the dead to life.

For wise he was, and many curious arts, Postures of runes, and healing herbs he knew; Unhappy! but that art he did not know, To keep his own life safe, and see the sun.

There to his hall the G.o.ds brought Balder home, And each bespake him as he laid him down:-- "Would that ourselves, O Balder, we were borne Home to our halls, with torchlight, by our kin, So thou might'st live, and still delight the G.o.ds!"

They spake; and each went home to his own house.

But there was one, the first of all the G.o.ds For speed, and Hermod was his name in Heaven; Most fleet he was, but now he went the last, Heavy in heart for Balder, to his house, Which he in Asgard built him, there to dwell, Against the harbour, by the city-wall.

Him the blind Hoder met, as he came up From the sea cityward, and knew his step; Nor yet could Hermod see his brother's face, For it grew dark; but Hoder touch'd his arm.

And as a spray of honeysuckle flowers Brushes across a tired traveller's face Who shuffles through the deep dew-moisten'd dust, On a May evening, in the darken'd lanes, And starts him, that he thinks a ghost went by-- So Hoder brush'd by Hermod's side, and said:-- "Take Sleipner, Hermod, and set forth with dawn To Hela's kingdom, to ask Balder back; And they shall be thy guides, who have the power."

He spake, and brush'd soft by, and disappear'd.

And Hermod gazed into the night, and said:-- "Who is it utters through the dark his hest So quickly, and will wait for no reply?

The voice was like the unhappy Hoder's voice.

Howbeit I will see, and do his hest; For there rang note divine in that command."

So speaking, the fleet-footed Hermod came Home, and lay down to sleep in his own house; And all the G.o.ds lay down in their own homes.

And Hoder too came home, distraught with grief, Loathing to meet, at dawn, the other G.o.ds; And he went in, and shut the door, and fixt His sword upright, and fell on it, and died.

But from the hill of Lidskialf Odin rose, The throne, from which his eye surveys the world; And mounted Sleipner, and in darkness rode To Asgard. And the stars came out in heaven, High over Asgard, to light home the King.

But fiercely Odin gallop'd, moved in heart; And swift to Asgard, to the gate, he came.

And terribly the hoofs of Sleipner rang Along the flinty floor of Asgard streets, And the G.o.ds trembled on their golden beds Hearing the wrathful Father coming home-- For dread, for like a whirlwind, Odin came.

And to Valhalla's gate he rode, and left Sleipner; and Sleipner went to his own stall; And in Valhalla Odin laid him down.

But in Breidablik, Nanna, Balder's wife, Came with the G.o.ddesses who wrought her will, And stood by Balder lying on his bier.

And at his head and feet she station'd Scalds Who in their lives were famous for their song; These o'er the corpse intoned a plaintive strain, A dirge--and Nanna and her train replied.

And far into the night they wail'd their dirge.

But when their souls were satisfied with wail, They went, and laid them down, and Nanna went Into an upper chamber, and lay down; And Frea seal'd her tired lids with sleep.

And 'twas when night is bordering hard on dawn, When air is chilliest, and the stars sunk low; Then Balder's spirit through the gloom drew near, In garb, in form, in feature as he was, Alive; and still the rays were round his head Which were his glorious mark in Heaven; he stood Over against the curtain of the bed, And gazed on Nanna as she slept, and spake:-- "Poor lamb, thou sleepest, and forgett'st thy woe!

Tears stand upon the lashes of thine eyes, Tears wet the pillow by thy cheek; but thou, Like a young child, hast cried thyself to sleep.

Sleep on; I watch thee, and am here to aid.

Alive I kept not far from thee, dear soul!

Neither do I neglect thee now, though dead.

For with to-morrow's dawn the G.o.ds prepare To gather wood, and build a funeral-pile Upon my ship, and burn my corpse with fire, That sad, sole honour of the dead; and thee They think to burn, and all my choicest wealth, With me, for thus ordains the common rite.

But it shall not be so; but mild, but swift, But painless shall a stroke from Frea come, To cut thy thread of life, and free thy soul, And they shall burn thy corpse with mine, not thee.

And well I know that by no stroke of death, Tardy or swift, would'st thou be loath to die, So it restored thee, Nanna, to my side, Whom thou so well hast loved; but I can smooth Thy way, and this, at least, my prayers avail.

Yes, and I fain would altogether ward Death from thy head, and with the G.o.ds in Heaven Prolong thy life, though not by thee desired-- But right bars this, not only thy desire.

Yet dreary, Nanna, is the life they lead In that dim world, in Hela's mouldering realm; And doleful are the ghosts, the troops of dead, Whom Hela with austere control presides.

For of the race of G.o.ds is no one there, Save me alone, and Hela, solemn queen; And all the n.o.bler souls of mortal men On battle-field have met their death, and now Feast in Valhalla, in my father's hall; Only the inglorious sort are there below, The old, the cowards, and the weak are there-- Men spent by sickness, or obscure decay.

But even there, O Nanna, we might find Some solace in each other's look and speech, Wandering together through that gloomy world, And talking of the life we led in Heaven, While we yet lived, among the other G.o.ds."

He spake, and straight his lineaments began To fade; and Nanna in her sleep stretch'd out Her arms towards him with a cry--but he Mournfully shook his head, and disappear'd.

And as the woodman sees a little smoke Hang in the air, afield, and disappear, So Balder faded in the night away.

And Nanna on her bed sank back; but then Frea, the mother of the G.o.ds, with stroke Painless and swift, set free her airy soul, Which took, on Balder's track, the way below; And instantly the sacred morn appear'd.

2. JOURNEY TO THE DEAD

Forth from the east, up the ascent of Heaven, Day drove his courser with the shining mane; And in Valhalla, from his gable-perch, The golden-crested c.o.c.k began to crow.

Hereafter, in the blackest dead of night, With shrill and dismal cries that bird shall crow, Warning the G.o.ds that foes draw nigh to Heaven; But now he crew at dawn, a cheerful note, To wake the G.o.ds and Heroes to their tasks.

And all the G.o.ds, and all the Heroes, woke.

And from their beds the Heroes rose, and donn'd Their arms, and led their horses from the stall, And mounted them, and in Valhalla's court Were ranged; and then the daily fray began.

And all day long they there are hack'd and hewn, 'Mid dust, and groans, and limbs lopp'd off, and blood; But all at night return to Odin's hall, Woundless and fresh; such lot is theirs in Heaven.

And the Valkyries on their steeds went forth Tow'rd earth and fights of men; and at their side Skulda, the youngest of the Nornies, rode; And over Bifrost, where is Heimdall's watch, Past Midgard fortress, down to earth they came; There through some battle-field, where men fall fast, Their horses fetlock-deep in blood, they ride, And pick the bravest warriors out for death, Whom they bring back with them at night to Heaven To glad the G.o.ds, and feast in Odin's hall.

But the G.o.ds went not now, as otherwhile, Into the tilt-yard, where the Heroes fought, To feast their eyes with looking on the fray; Nor did they to their judgment-place repair By the ash Igdrasil, in Ida's plain, Where they hold council, and give laws for men.

But they went, Odin first, the rest behind, To the hall Gladheim, which is built of gold; Where are in circle ranged twelve golden chairs, And in the midst one higher, Odin's throne.

There all the G.o.ds in silence sate them down; And thus the Father of the ages spake:-- "Go quickly, G.o.ds, bring wood to the seash.o.r.e, With all, which it beseems the dead to have, And make a funeral-pile on Balder's ship; On the twelfth day the G.o.ds shall burn his corpse.

But Hermod, thou, take Sleipner, and ride down To Hela's kingdom, to ask Balder back."

So said he; and the G.o.ds arose, and took Axes and ropes, and at their head came Thor, Shouldering his hammer, which the giants know.

Forth wended they, and drave their steeds before.

And up the dewy mountain-tracks they fared To the dark forests, in the early dawn; And up and down, and side and slant they roam'd.

And from the glens all day an echo came Of crashing falls; for with his hammer Thor Smote 'mid the rocks the lichen-bearded pines, And burst their roots, while to their tops the G.o.ds Made fast the woven ropes, and haled them down, And lopp'd their boughs, and clove them on the sward, And bound the logs behind their steeds to draw, And drave them homeward; and the snorting steeds Went straining through the crackling brushwood down, And by the darkling forest-paths the G.o.ds Follow'd, and on their shoulders carried boughs.

And they came out upon the plain, and pa.s.s'd Asgard, and led their horses to the beach, And loosed them of their loads on the seash.o.r.e, And ranged the wood in stacks by Balder's ship; And every G.o.d went home to his own house.

But when the G.o.ds were to the forest gone, Hermod led Sleipner from Valhalla forth And saddled him; before that, Sleipner brook'd No meaner hand than Odin's on his mane, On his broad back no lesser rider bore; Yet docile now he stood at Hermod's side, Arching his neck, and glad to be bestrode, Knowing the G.o.d they went to seek, how dear.

But Hermod mounted him, and sadly fared In silence up the dark untravell'd road Which branches from the north of Heaven, and went All day; and daylight waned, and night came on.

And all that night he rode, and journey'd so, Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice, Through valleys deep-engulph'd, by roaring streams.

And on the tenth morn he beheld the bridge Which spans with golden arches Giall's stream, And on the bridge a damsel watching arm'd, In the strait pa.s.sage, at the farther end, Where the road issues between walling rocks.

Scant s.p.a.ce that warder left for pa.s.sers by;-- But as when cowherds in October drive Their kine across a snowy mountain-pa.s.s To winter-pasture on the southern side, And on the ridge a waggon chokes the way, Wedged in the snow; then painfully the hinds With goad and shouting urge their cattle past, Plunging through deep untrodden banks of snow To right and left, and warm steam fills the air-- So on the bridge that damsel block'd the way, And question'd Hermod as he came, and said:-- "Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse Under whose hoofs the bridge o'er Giall's stream Rumbles and shakes? Tell me thy race and home.

But yestermorn, five troops of dead pa.s.s'd by, Bound on their way below to Hela's realm, Nor shook the bridge so much as thou alone.

And thou hast flesh and colour on thy cheeks, Like men who live, and draw the vital air; Nor look'st thou pale and wan, like men deceased, Souls bound below, my daily pa.s.sers here."

And the fleet-footed Hermod answer'd her:-- "O damsel, Hermod am I call'd, the son Of Odin; and my high-roof'd house is built Far hence, in Asgard, in the city of G.o.ds; And Sleipner, Odin's horse, is this I ride.

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 G.o.ds Or of the horses of the G.o.ds resound Upon my bridge; and, when they cross, I know.

Balder hath gone this way, and ta'en the road Below there, to the north, tow'rd Hela's realm.

From here the cold white mist can be discern'd, Nor lit with sun, but through the darksome air 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, 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! pa.s.s free! but he by this is there."

She spake, and stepp'd aside, and left him room.

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 fared.

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.

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, And heard the thunder of the streams of h.e.l.l.

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.

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 Quivering, and others skim the river-streams, And their quick twittering fills the banks and sh.o.r.es-- So around Hermod swarm'd the twittering ghosts.

Women, and infants, and young men who died Too soon for fame, with white ungraven shields; 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, Greeted of none, disfeatured 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.

But all he pa.s.s'd unhail'd, and reach'd the throne Of Hela, and saw, near it, Balder crown'd, And Hela set thereon, with countenance stern; And thus bespake him first the solemn queen:-- "Unhappy, how hast thou endured to leave 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 sh.o.r.e?

Or how o'erleap the grate that bars the wall?"

She spake: but down off Sleipner Hermod sprang, And fell before her feet, and clasp'd her knees; And spake, and mild entreated her, and said:-- "O Hela, wherefore should the G.o.ds declare Their errands to each other, or the ways 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, 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 G.o.ds And Heroes, where they live in light and joy.

Thither restore him, for his place is there!"

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 G.o.ds send to me to make them blest?

Small bliss my race hath of the G.o.ds obtained.

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, 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 bored crag, by wile not strength Subdued, with limber chains lives Fenris bound.