Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/158

120 And ruled o'er Denmark and the heathy isles,

Living; but Ella captured him and slew,—

A king, whose fame then filled the vast of heaven:

Now time obscures it, and men's later deeds.

He last approached 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 remembered 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 groaned.

But now the sun had passed 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 gathered wood to Balder's ship;

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

But when the gods and heroes heard, they brought