Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Part 15

Lok still subsists in Heaven, our father wise, Your mate, though loathed, and feasts in Odin's hall; But him too foes await, and netted snares, And in a cave a bed of needle-rocks, 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, Wrought by the G.o.ds--and ask the G.o.ds 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.

Come then! if Balder was so dear beloved, And this is true, and such a loss is Heaven's-- Hear, how to Heaven may Balder be restored.

Show me through all the world the signs of grief!

Fails but one thing to grieve, here Balder stops!

Let all that lives and moves upon the earth Weep him, and all that is without life weep; Let G.o.ds, 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."

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?"

He spake, and straightway Hela answered him:-- "Hermod, greet Balder if thou wilt, and hold Converse; his speech remains, though he be dead."

And straight to Balder Hermod turn'd, and spake:-- "Even in the abode of death, O Balder, hail!

Thou hear'st, if hearing, like as speech, is thine, The terms of thy releas.e.m.e.nt hence to Heaven; Fear nothing but that all shall be fulfill'd.

For not unmindful of thee are the G.o.ds, Who see the light, and blest in Asgard dwell; 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 wast of G.o.ds the most beloved, And now thou sittest crown'd by Hela's side, 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 serf, a captured man, 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 loved, and many mourn my death; 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 saved or no; And tell the Heaven-born G.o.ds how thou hast seen Me sitting here below by Hela's side, Crown'd, having honour among all the dead."

He spake, and raised his hand, and gave the ring.

And with inscrutable regard the queen Of h.e.l.l 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.

And to the wall he came, and found the grate Lifted, and issued on the fields of ice.

And o'er the ice he fared to Ocean's strand, And up from thence, a wet and misty road, To the arm'd damsel's bridge, and Giall's stream.

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 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-- 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 In Asgard; and the golden halls were dumb.

Then Hermod knew what labour held the G.o.ds; And through the empty streets he rode, and pa.s.s'd Under the gate-house to the sands, and found The G.o.ds on the sea-sh.o.r.e by Balder's s.h.i.+p.

3. FUNERAL

The G.o.ds held talk together, group'd in knots, Round Balder's corpse, which they had thither borne; And Hermod came down tow'rds them from the gate.

And Lok, the father of the serpent, first Beheld him come, and to his neighbour spake:-- "See, here is Hermod, who comes single back From h.e.l.l; 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, 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, And piteously he eyes the pa.s.sers 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, moved with wrath, replied:-- "Deceiver! fair in form, but false in heart!

Enemy, mocker, whom, though G.o.ds, we hate-- Peace, lest our father Odin hear thee gibe!

Would I might see him s.n.a.t.c.h thee in his hand, And bind thy carcase, like a bale, with cords, 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.

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 G.o.ds, and said:-- "Odin, my father, and ye, G.o.ds 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 communed with their solemn queen; 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 G.o.ds, men, brutes, beweep him; plants and stones:_ _So shall she know your loss was dear indeed,_ _And bend her heart, and give you Balder back._"

He spoke; and all the G.o.ds to Odin look'd; And straight the Father of the ages said:-- "Ye G.o.ds, these terms may keep another day.

But now, put on your arms, and mount your steeds, 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, And lead, as erst, our daily life in Heaven."

He spoke, and the G.o.ds 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.

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 loved a G.o.d.

And Odin came, and laid his kingly hands On Balder's breast, and thus began the wail:-- "Farewell, O Balder, bright and loved, my son!

In that great day, the twilight of the G.o.ds, When Muspel's children shall beleaguer Heaven, Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm."

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:-- "Brother, thou dwellest in the darksome land, 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 G.o.ds and Heroes here in Heaven, 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 G.o.d or Hero, but thou keptest back The others, labouring to compose their brawls.

Be ye then kind, as Balder too was kind!

For we lose him, who smoothed all strife in Heaven."

He spake, and all the G.o.ds a.s.senting wail'd.

And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears; The loveliest G.o.ddess 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.

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 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 wast To his neglected wife, and what he is, And wring his heart with shame, to hear thy word!

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 sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e my golden tears, But neither G.o.d nor mortal heeds my pain.

Thou only, Balder, wast 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,_ _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, My truant Oder I shall see no more To the world's end; and Balder now is gone, And I am left uncomforted in Heaven."

She spake; and all the G.o.ddesses bewail'd.

Last from among the Heroes one came near, No G.o.d, but of the hero-troop the chief-- Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets, And ruled o'er Denmark and the heathy isles, Living; but Ella captured him and slew;-- A king whose fame then fill'd the vast of Heaven, Now time obscures it, and men's later deeds.

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, 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 waged, And blood, and ringing blows, and violent death.

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 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.

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 pa.s.s'd the height of Heaven, And soon had all that day been spent in wail; But then the Father of the ages said:-- "Ye G.o.ds, there well may be too much of wail!

Bring now the gather'd wood to Balder's s.h.i.+p; Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre."

But when the G.o.ds and Heroes heard, they brought The wood to Balder's s.h.i.+p, 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.

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 who at his table fed, And his horse, Balder's horse, whom most he loved, And placed them on the pyre, and Odin threw A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring.

The mast they fixt, and hoisted up the sails, Then they put fire to the wood; and Thor Set his stout shoulder hard against the stern To push the s.h.i.+p through the thick sand;--sparks flew From the deep trench she plough'd, so strong a G.o.d Furrow'd it; and the water gurgled in.

And the s.h.i.+p floated on the waves, and rock'd.

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 wreathed in smoke the s.h.i.+p stood out to sea.

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, And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the s.h.i.+p Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire.

And the G.o.ds stood upon the beach, and gazed.

And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on.

Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm; But through the dark they watch'd the burning s.h.i.+p Still carried o'er the distant waters on, Farther and farther, like an eye of fire.

And long, in the far dark, blazed Balder's pile; But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared, The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile.

And as, in a decaying winter-fire, A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks-- So with a shower of sparks the pile fell in, Reddening the sea around; and all was dark.

But the G.o.ds went by starlight up the sh.o.r.e To Asgard, and sate down in Odin's hall At table, and the funeral-feast began.

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 loathed feasts the G.o.ds arose, 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 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 G.o.ds, and sate them down on stones; And thus the Father of the ages said:-- "Ye G.o.ds, 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.

But how, ye say, should the fulfilment fail?-- Smooth sound the terms, and light to be fulfill'd; For dear-beloved was Balder while he lived In Heaven and earth, and who would grudge him tears?

But from the traitorous seed of Lok they come, These terms, and I suspect some hidden fraud.