Poetry · Balder Dead 33 (4/4) (1/2)

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:⁠—

“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,

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 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:⁠—

“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,

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 Gods, and said:⁠—

“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 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 Gods, 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 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,

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 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.

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

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.”

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 Gods 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 God 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 smooth’d all strife in Heaven.”

He spake: and all the Gods assenting wail’d.

And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears:

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:

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 wert

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 shore to shore my golden tears,

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,

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 Goddesses bewail’d.

Last, from among the Heroes one came near,

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

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:

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 wag’d,

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 pass’d the height of Heaven,

And soon had all that day been spent in wail;

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

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.

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 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

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:

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.

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 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.

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

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:⁠—

So flar’d, in the far darkness, blazed Balder’s pile;

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—

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.

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,

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 Gods, and sate them down on stones:

And thus the Father of the Ages said:⁠—

“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.

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,

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

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?”

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.

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:

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:

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,

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:

Last, walking by the sea, thou foundest spars

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

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,

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

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,

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,

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.”

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

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,

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—

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

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.