Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/170

132 Self-springing, and a seed of man preserved,

Who then shall live in peace, as now in war.

But we in heaven shall find again with joy

The ruined palaces of Odin, seats

Familiar, halls where we have supped of old;

Re-enter them with wonder, never fill

Our eyes with gazing, and rebuild with tears.

And we shall tread once more the well-known plain

Of Ida, and among the grass shall find

The golden dice wherewith we played of yore;

And that will bring to mind the former life

And pastime of the gods, the wise discourse

Of Odin, the delights of other days.

O Hermod, pray that thou may'st join us then!

Such for the future is my hope; meanwhile,

I rest the thrall of Hela, and endure

Death, and the gloom which round me even now

Thickens, and to its inner gulf recalls.

Farewell, for longer speech is not allowed!"

He spoke, and waved farewell, and gave his hand

To Nanna; and she gave their brother blind

Her hand, in turn, for guidance; and the three

Departed o'er the cloudy plain, and soon

Faded from sight into the interior gloom.

But Hermod stood beside his drooping horse,

Mute, gazing after them in tears; and fain,

Fain had he followed their receding steps,

Though they to death were bound, and he to heaven,

Then: but a power he could not break withheld.

And as a stork which idle boys have trapped,

And tied him in a yard, at autumn sees

Flocks of his kind pass flying o'er his head

To warmer lands, and coasts that keep the sun;

He strains to join their flight, and from his shed