University of Virginia Library


94

CANTO VI.

Yestrene the mountain's rugged brow
Was mantled o'er with dreary snow;
The sun sat red behind the hill,
And every breath of wind was still:
But, ere he rose, the southern blast
A veil o'er heaven's blue arch had cast;
Thick roll'd the clouds, and genial rain
Pour'd the wide deluge o'er the plain.
Fair glens and verdant vales appear,
And warmth awakes the budding year.
O 'tis the touch of fairy hand
That wakes the spring of northern land!

The note of the snipe in the spring, when the breeding season approaches, is very different from his call in other seasons of the year. As soon as the mild weather of spring appears, he begins to rise high on the wing, crying, peet, peet, peet, and continues to sport in the air for many hours at a time, letting himself fall obliquely, or dive through the air from a great height as if he were about to alight; but suddenly stops his descent, and rises again to the same elevation. During the descent he makes no motion of the pinions, but by a singular contraction of the muscles, each individual quill of the wing is turned sideways, so as to meet the air and obstruct his descent, and the wind whistles in a most remarkable manner through the feathers, making a noise like the prolonged repetition of the letters dr. This noise has been called the snipe's drumming, with reference to the letters dr, though the noise has not the least resemblance to that of a drum.


It warms not there by slow degrees,
With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze;
But sudden on the wondering sight
Bursts forth the beam of living light,
And instant verdure springs around,
And magic flowers bedeck the ground.
Return'd from regions far away
The red-wing'd throstle pours his lay;
The soaring snipe salutes the spring,
While the breeze whistles through his wing;
And, as he hails the melting snows,
The heathcock claps his wings and crows.
Bright shines the sun on Sigtune's towers,
And Spring leads on the fragrant hours.
The ice is loosed, and prosperous gales
Already fill the strutting sails.

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Young Asbiorn looks to East and West,
His heart with anxious cares opprest:
He looks to spy if far or near
Hialmar's towering crest appear;
But still, as day succeeds to day,
He lingers on his distant way,
While Rumor shapes a thousand tales,
And each vague fame in turn prevails.
Wearied and vex'd, old Ingva brooks
Impatient Asbiorn's ireful looks,
The bold reproach, the fitful fire
Of young and passionate desire,
The proud request repeated still,
The challenge, and the threat of ill.
Nor Orvarod likes his friend's delay;
He pants to join the arduous fray;
And tow'rds the neighbouring port he hies,
Where moor'd the well-rigg'd vessel lies.
Advancing straight with hasty stride
He views a gallant warrior's pride;
Hialmar's princely port he knows,
And crest, the dread of Sweden's foes.
High towers his helm, and from his hand
Gleams far the wonderous elfish brand,
As swift he speeds tow'rds Sigtune's tower;
One sweet farewell in Helga's bower
He seeks, nor heeds the fleeting hour.
But Orvarod sternly chides his friend:
“Love must,” he cries, “to honor bend.
“Long has the zephyr fill'd our sails,
“The mariner greets the favoring gales.
“E'en now on Samsoe's dreary coast
“Angantyr and his savage host

96

“Insulting mock our long delay,
“And wanton in the eye of day.
“Thou strive a love-sick maid to please!
“Waste thy soft hours in silken ease!
“Go, change for pleasure's rosy crown
“Life's worth, the palm of fair renown!
“I stem the seas; where honor calls
“Undaunted Orvarod wins or falls.
“Fair deeds be mine, and deathless praise,
“And victory's never-fading bays!”
Most scornfully the hero spoke
Rough words, which painful thoughts awoke.
On young Hialmar's haughty brow
A frown like anger seem'd to grow,
Or pride, that struggled high with shame,
And conscious thoughts not free from blame.
'Tis passing hard for lovers true
To part without one sweet adieu!
To part, perchance to meet no more,
And distant lands and seas explore,
Nor bless again the longing sight
With the heart's fancy and delight!
One instant glance, one lingering kiss
Seems then worth years of future bliss;
One tender pledge mid fond tears given
Dearer than all the hopes of heaven.
High conflict rent the chieftain's heart,

Agnafit the present site of Stockholm.


From all he prized unseen to part;
But Honor calls, imperious name,
The crown of life, the warrior's fame.
One thought he murmur'd, and no more,
“Orvarod, thou wrong'st me!” to the shore

97

Then turn'd his dark expressive eye,
And onward moved right mournfully.
They came to where the surges beat
O'er the rude rocks of Agnafit,
And soon the ready keel unlash,
'Gainst which the swelling waters dash;
The sails are full; they cleave the spray,
And o'er the billows win their way;
Nor long their course: where Samsoe's isle
Rears its dark form, a dreary pile,
Their anchor bites the yellow sand;
The heroes spring upon the strand.
They gaze around; within the bay
A Danish bark at moorings lay,
Behind a jutting rock half hid

Thirteen of the Valkyriur or Maids of slaughter are enumerated in Grimnismál; but others are named in the Edda and in Haconarmál. I have never seen their exact number stated. In Völospá only six are named, and those appear to have been the most distinguished.

Sa hun Valkyriur vytt um komnar,
Giörvar at ryda til Godthiödar;
Skuld hielt Skylldi, enn Skögul onnur,
Gunnr, Hilldr, Göndul, or Geirskögul.
Nu ero taldar nönnor Herians,
Giörvar at ryda grund Valkyriur.

i e.

“She saw the Valkyriur come from afar,
Appointed to ride to the chosen people of Odin:
Skuld held her shield, and Skogul second,
Gunnr, Hilldr, Gondul, and Geirskogul:
Now are enumerated the maids of the God of war,
The Valkyriur appointed to ride over the field of battle.”

It was their province to choose out those who were to fall in battle, to bear the invitation of Odin to the most distinguished, and to pour out the beverage of the gods, ale or mead, for the souls of the heroes in Valhall.


Which loud the frothy waters chid;
And boldly swelling from the shore
Stretch'd wide around a barren moor.
They climb the toilsome height, to view
The vessel and her gallant crew.
I ween they had not paced a rood,
When close beside Hialmar stood,
On steeds that seem'd as fleet as light,
Six maids in complete armour dight.
Their chargers of ethereal birth
Paw'd with impatient hoof the earth,
And snorting fiercely 'gan to neigh,
As if they heard the battle bray,
And burn'd to join the bloody fray.
But they unmoved and silent sate,
With pensive brow and look sedate;

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Proudly each couch'd her glittering spear,
And seem'd to know nor hope, nor fear:
So mildly firm their placid air,
So resolute, yet heavenly fair.
But not one ray of pity's beam
From their dark eyelids seem'd to gleam;
Nor gentle mercy's melting tear,
Nor love might ever harbour here:
Was never beauteous woman's face
So stern and yet so passionless!
They spake not, but in proud array
Moved onward, and a glorious ray
From their dark lashes as they pass'd
Full on Hialmar's face they cast.
Then wheeling round in gorgeous pride
They paused, and thus the foremost cried.
“Praise to the slain on battle plain!
“Glory to Odin's deathless train!
“They shall not sink in worthless ease
“Wasted by age or fell disease.
“In the bright chambers of the brave
“Gladly they wield the conquering glaive,
“Quaff the rich draught of gods, and hear
“The applauding thunders rolling near.
“Haste, Odin, haste! the bowl prepare!
“Man shall the glittering beverage share!
“Thy messengers of fate prevail!
“Hail to thy guest, high Odin, hail!”
She said; and spurring each her steed
O'er the dark moor they quickly speed.
Hialmar heard the fatal call,
Foredoom'd, alas! in youth to fall;

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And mark'd with sad presaging eye
The visionary warriors fly.
They seem'd not as they pass'd to fling
The dewdrop from the humble ling;
The heathcock sprang not from his seat,
Nor bow'd the grass beneath their feet.
Bold Orvarod heard, though fast behind,
No voice save of the sighing wind;
Nor living form could he discorn,
Save the deer bounding from the fern.
Him with slow voice and grief repress'd
His mournful comrade thus address'd:
“Yestrene as on the poop we lay,
“I watch'd the sun's declining ray.
“In splendid form his glories shone,
“And all the welkin seem'd his own.
“Most radiant was the course he ran,
“Dimm'd by no cloud since morn began;
“And the smooth lap of ocean's tide
“Blushing received him, as a bride
“All-beauteous and serenely fair,
“With glowing cheek and golden hair.
“I saw, and hoped like him to rest
“With glory crown'd on beauty's breast;
“I hail'd the omen bright and dear,

Gondul was one of the Valkyriur. She is mentioned in Haconarmál, where she warns king Haco of his approaching death. Valkyriur or Valkyrior is the plural. Valkyrie is the singular, derived from Valr, the slain, and ec kiöri, I choose or select.


“And thought the hour of rapture near.
“But heaven forbids; these longing eyes
“Must never more behold the prize,
“Which my heart pants for! on the shore,
“Where the wild Baltic billows roar,
“Hopeless of love's delightful meed,
“Orvarod, thy friend must fall and bleed!

100

“Yet not Angantyr's force I fear,
“But Gondula's immortal spear.
“I see the stern Valkyriur nigh
“All arm'd, and pointing to the sky:
“Virgins of fate, that choose the slain,
“They bid me hence to Odin's train.”
Fierce Orvarod smiled with scornful mind,
To his friend's feelings little kind;
Deem'd him unnerved by woman's love,
And roughly 'gan his words reprove.
“Curse on the dimpled cheek,” he cried,
“That half unmans my comrade's pride!
“Not Odin's maid shall bow thy crest.
“But the soft woman in thy breast.
“Behold yon orb, whose setting beam
“Soothed thy fond bosom's wayward dream!
“See his bright steeds with equal pace
“Pursue their never-tiring race!
“They waste not in the morning's bower
“Mid dewy wreaths the fragrant hour;
“But ever at the call of day
“Spring forth and win their glittering way:
“Though storms assail their radiant heads,
“Eternal splendour round them spreads;
“Onward the wheels of glory roll;
“They pant, and struggle to the goal.
“And thou, like them, my fere, pursue
“Thy course to fame and honor true.

The occupation of the souls of heroes in the hall of Odin is set forth in the old poem Vafthrudnismál.

Allir einheriarOc rída vígi frá;
Odins tunomAul med A'som drecka,
Hauggvas hveriann dag;Oc sediaz Særhimni;
Val their kiósa,Sitia meirr um sáttir saman.

i. e. “All the heroes at the court of Odin fight every day. They choose the slain, and ride from the battle; drink ale with the gods, and eat the flesh of the boar. They sit most amicably together.” In the Edda, it is said, that every morning as soon as they are apparelled, they go out into the court and fight with each other till the close of the day, when they return to Valhall to drink beer or mead.


“All hopes beside are little worth,
“Man walks in sorrow from his birth;
“The fleeting charms that round him move
“Are vain, and chief frail woman's love.

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“Fate comes at last, and then the brave
“To glory spring beyond the grave;
“With Odin quaff the godlike bowl,
“While round their feet the thunders roll,
“And in bright fields of azure light
“Each day renew the blissful fight,
“And joyous with immortal hand
“Thrust the strong lance and wave the brand.”
Scarce had he spoke, when on the shore
They heard the Danish champions roar,
Wielding their clubs, and with fierce glee
Already brawling victory.
Resistless, rushing fierce, they came,
Like those huge elks of mighty frame,
That oft by Ifa's echoing flood,
Or hill-crown'd Bergen's tangled wood,
Wake the wild echoes with their cry,
And through the crashing forest hie:
Foremost Angantyr rush'd, to view
More dire than all that savage crew.
He seem'd some angel of dismay
Scattering dread terror on his way,
Some flaming minister of wrath
With vengeful power the world to scath.
Bare was his breast, his forehead bare;
Nor habergeon of tissue rare,
Vantbrass, nor gauntlet there did shine,
Nor helm, nor trusty brigandine.
What need that wonderous son of might
His limbs with iron harness dight,
Whom native strength, gigantic power,
Might match with gods in deadly stour!

102

With placid eye and tranquil mien
Hialmar views the fearful scene,
Firm fix'd and dauntless to abide
The arm of strength, the brow of pride.
As one with self-devotion bent
Upon the fight's arbitrement
To peril fame, and, dearer far,
Love's joy that crowns fame earn'd in war,
And life, but valued for the meed
To glory and to love decreed;
Nor scornful, nor appall'd, his form
Radiant and fearless fronts the storm.
“Odin,” he cries, “I hear thy call!
“Hialmar's strength foreknows its fall;
“And each dear vision of delight
“Is fading from my hopeless sight;
“But yet, stern God, uphold my might!
“If I must draw my latest breath,
“Grant me but victory in death,
“And spare the virgin's gentle charms
“From the rude force of foreign arms!”
He spoke, and from its scabbard drew
His fairy brand of changeful hue.
Was never trenchant blade so bright;
It glitter'd like a beam of light.

The delight which an eagle shows in a storm of wind and rain is very remarkable, even when it is chained to a perch.


There was calm valor in his air,
And high resolve and proud despair;
The thought that looks beyond the tomb,
The firmness that provokes its doom.
Then kindled Orvarod's dark eye,
As it was wont when strife was nigh;
Like the gaunt eagle that surveys
With dauntless joy the lightning's blaze,

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And, while the pitiless tempests beat
With wild uproar his rocky seat,
Flaps his strong wings with fierce delight,
And screaming hails the storms of night.
O, 'twas a gallant sight to see
Those proud twin stars of chivalry,
As down the steep they boldly move
'Gainst fearful odds their might to prove!
“My single arm in fight be tried
“With that fell chief!” (bold Orvarod cried)
“Thy falchion in this deadly strife
“May reave his brothers of their life.”
To him Hialmar proud replied,
“Angantyr was by me defied.
“He shall not bend to other hand,
“Nor bow his head to other brand.
“O where, or when in battle's hour,
“Orvarod, hast thou shown loftier power?
“Hast thou more firm in peril stood,
“Or died thy sword with nobler blood?
“Come the fierce champion, like the blast
“Of heaven with lowering storm o'ercast!
“Mine is the trial, mine the prize!
“Hialmar wins that hope, or dies!”
He cried, and with his valiant hand
Waved high in air his flaming brand,
Breathing defiance; at his look
The ruffian Dane with fury shook,
E'en as he mark'd the boastful word
Deep graven on the magic sword.
He paused not with bold speech to throw
A brave defiance at the foe,

104

But waxing fierce with scorn and hate
Strove by one blow to close his fate,
And headlong at Hialmar's face
Wielded amain his ponderous mace.
The rock that breasts the thundering main
Might ill such furious shock sustain,
But swift as thought yon crest of pride
Shuns the dire blow and springs aside,
While the slant falchion deftly cleaves
The fearful weight its edge receives.
Hissing in air the fragment flies,
On earth the headlong champion lies:
His furious unresisted hand,
By weight o'erborne, has struck the sand.
O, say, did brave Hialmar's brand

Angrim was the father of Angantyr. He killed in single combat Svafurlami, the grandson of Odin, and took from him his famous sword Tirfing, which had been made by the dwarfs; and he carried off his daughter Eyfur or Eyvora, who became the mother of Angantyr and his brothers. The particulars are related in Hervarar Saga.


Glitter like lightning o'er his head?
Is the swift stroke of vengeance sped?
That arm ne'er smote a fallen foe!
Ne'er hath it dealt a coward blow!
Collected, mild, with radiant eyes,
He bids the impetuous champion rise,
Fix his firm foot to earth, and wait
With strength entire the stroke of fate.
Fiercer, thus foil'd, the giant straight
Bright Tirfing grasp'd, of mighty weight
Portentous weapon, which of yore
His sire from Odin's offspring tore;
What time, her valiant father slain,
He joy'd Eyvora's charms to gain,
Sad mother of that giant brood
Mid shrieks of slaughter fiercely woo'd.
Dark is the tempest of his brow,
His flashing eyes their hate avow,

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While conscious fury nerves his might,
To madness roused with vengeful spite.
High o'er each head the falchions gleam,
From each keen blade the lightnings stream;
And dreadful was the strife which then
Began between the first of men!
But, as the brothers huge came nigh,
Sudden has Orvarod turn'd to fly.
To fly! O never in the field
Before that hour did Orvarod yield,
Nor ever did his heart appear
To know the withering breath of fear;
He has stood foremost in the blast
Of battle, when all hope seem'd past,
And turn'd the bloody tide of war
Wielding his dauntless scimitar:

The name Orvarodd signifies the point of an arrow, which suggested the probability of his making use of that weapon in the combat. In Hervarar Saga, he is said to have killed all the brothers of Angantyr successively, but not with the bow and arrow.


But now he flies! the savage crew,
Shouting with hideous joy pursue;
While striving singly on the strand
Angantyr and Hialmar stand.
Headlong they follow; but the Swede,
Nimbler, outstrips them all in speed;
And they with vague unequal pace,
Like baffled hounds, toil in the chase.
Sudden he turns, as if to view
With various speed the foe pursue.
His bow is bent, and from the string
Behold the unerring arrow spring!
Long twangs the cord! again! again!
Proud Semingar has bit the plain,
Barri and Hervardur are slain!
Another whizzing shaft is sped!
Reitner, it strikes thy towering head!

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Ah! what avails thy peerless strength,
Thy matchless weapon's weight and length;
For, ere thy hand can deal the blow,
Thou fall'st before a flying foe:
Again it sounds; the feathered dart
Quivers in Brani's fearless heart.
Short is the race those warriors run;
They fall unpitied, one by one;
Writhing upon the barren moor
They lie in blood to rise no more,
Nor one of all that kindred train
Shall ever see their native plain.
But he, the conqueror, firm and slow
Treads backward mid the dying foe,
To view beside the surgy main
His fere the arduous strife maintain.
He seats him there in silent pride
By the blue ocean's swelling tide,
And sees each fierce alternate blow
Dealt furiously by either foe.
The champion strives, but wastes his might,
While maddening fury blinds his sight;
He smites, and dire the weapon's weight;
But his lithe foeman shuns his fate,
Watches that ponderous arm, and still
Scapes the death-stroke by nimbler skill;
And swift, where'er the giant turns,
In his gall'd flesh the falchion burns.
The champion bleeds apace, but still
Hialmar seems to fare as ill.
His casque is riven; o'er his brow,
Clotted with blood, the ringlets flow;

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And on his breast a gory star
Bewrays the stroke of ruthless war.
Foredone with strife and faint, the twain
Weakly and ill the fight sustain.
But on the breathless verge of fate
Angantyr glow'd with shame and hate,
And, gathering all his strength and pride,
One last but fatal effort tried.
Both arms upraised, his ponderous brand
He wielded high with either hand;
The keen point smote Hialmar's crest,
Glanced from his helm, and gored his breast.
But, as Angantyr struck, the blood
Gush'd from his side with hastier flood,
And that proud effort seem'd to force
Life's current from its inmost source.
He reels, he staggers; on the shore
His length distended lies in gore,
Gigantic; like a stately mast
On the bleak coast by tempest cast,
Shatter'd in battle from the deck
Of some huge ship, a blood-stain'd wreck.
In Ledra's court the serfs shall hear
With joy the fate of him they fear,
Whose violent and wayward arm
To friend or foe work'd equal harm;
No tender maid shall mourn his fall
In secret bower or lordly hall,
Nor e'en Eyvora drop a tear
To grace her son's abhorred bier:
He lies unpitied, unrevered,
And cursed by whom who once was fear'd.

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But that proud youth, in battle bless'd,
Who bow'd to dust the giant crest,
Say, does he lift the swelling sail,
And love's rich prize with rapture hail?
Does his high port and haughty eye
Proclaim the tale of victory?
Dim, dim the lights whence joy has flow'd,
Where Love has beam'd and valor glow'd!
How faintly throbs the pulse of pride!
How sinks yon arm with life's-blood died!
Those limbs his frame but ill sustain,
And all his flattering dreams are vain.
Behold him sink upon the strand,
His sword's point buried in the sand!
O'er his wan cheek a ghastly hue
Steals slowly, wet with death's cold dew.
Fix'd on his friend his glassy eye
Seeks one fond beam of sympathy;
And thus despairing, fraught with love,
His last sad accents feebly move.
“Orvarod, the arm of fate prevails;
“Hialmar's hope and glory fails.
“The day shall dawn on Sweden's hills,
“And gild with joy her sparkling rills;
“The wild flowers in her forests green
“Shall laugh amidst the genial scene;
“And blithe to hail the morning ray
“The birds ring out their vernal lay:
“But cold and stark thy friend shall lie,
“Nor hear their music warbling nigh,
“Nor raise to light the sparkling eye.
“Thou bear me to my native land,
“From dreary Samsoe's fatal strand;

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“Place my cold limbs by Helga's side,
“My hope in life, in death my bride!
“For, O! that perfect form, mature
“With every grace that can allure,
“Shall wither in its prime, and fall
“When hapless love and duty call;
“And scarce shall live to shed a tear
“O'er young Hialmar's honor'd bier.
“Thou, Orvarod, bid our ashes rest
“In one cold mound, together blest;
“And let the Scalds their music raise
“To thy friend's peace and Helga's praise.”
He ceased; nor ceased the voice alone;
The pulse is still, the feeling gone.
From the frail trunk of mortal clay
His spirit soars to brighter day;
And those resplendent Maids of war
Through misty regions stretching far,
Where the swift meteors gleam and die,

Huginn ok Muninn—Observation and Memory. —They are mentioned in the twentieth stanza of Grimnismál, as flying every day round the world.

Huginn ok MuninnOumc ec of Huginn,
Fliuga hverian dagAt han aptr ne comith,
Iörmun grund yfir.Thó siámc meirr um Muninn.

i. e. “Observation and Memory fly every day over the ground of the earth. I fear, concerning Observation, that he may not come back, but I look round more anxiously for Memory.”

In the prose Edda they are described as ravens.

Hrafnar sitia tveir a auxlum hans, ok segia honum oll tidindi i eyro hans thau er their sia ethr heyra. Their heita sva, Hugin ac Munin. Tha sendir Odin i daga at fliuga um heima alla ok koma aptr um dagverth. Thvi heitr han Hrafna Gud.

i. e. “Two ravens sit on his shoulders and tell in his ear all the tidings of what they see or hear. They are called thus, Hugin and Munin. Odin sends them every day to fly round the whole universe, and return at the decline of day. Hence he has been called the god of the ravens.”


And through yon pure ethereal sky,
Mid thousand orbs of radiant light
And suns with ceaseless splendor bright,
Guide him, to where, with fixed eye,
Amid the blaze of majesty,
Ecstatic Wonder sits alone,
Near the immortal thunderous throne.
There, shrined in glory, he descries
Odin, high ruler of the skies;
Near him two ravens black as night,
Memory and Observation hight.
On never-tiring pinion borne

Heimdallar, the god of light, is stated in the Edda to have the gift of hearing even the grass grow in the fields, and the wool on the flocks. By the nine sister virgins, who are said to have given him birth, are probably meant the nine heavens from which light proceeds. In the old poem Vafthrudnismál, Vafthrudnir says, that he has visited all the upper worlds, and that they are nine in number.

Frá Jotna runomHeim um komit:
Oc allra GodaNió kom ec heima
Ec kann segia satt;Fyr Niflhel nedan;
Thviat hvern hefi ecHinig deyia or Helio halir.

i. e. “I can speak truly of the incantations of the Jotuns and all the Gods; because I have travelled round every world. I have visited nine worlds above the abyss of hell. There men die by the power of Hela.”

And in Völospá hin skemre, the prophetess says:

Nyo nam ec heima, nyo i vide, Miötvid mæran fyr molld nedan.

i.e. “I have found nine worlds, and nine beams (or poles) in them. The largest pole through the earth beneath.”

He is called in Grimnismál Vörda Godom, the wardour of the gods. He is possessed of a horn, called Giallarhorn, which may be heard throughout the whole universe. This is the trumpet which will be heard at the end of the world, to apprize the gods of the approach of their enemies and the destruction which will envelope them.


The wonderous pair go forth at morn;

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Through boundless space each day they sail,
At eve return to tell their tale,
And whisper soft in Odin's ear
The secrets of each rolling sphere.
Beneath the proud pavilion's shade
On the high dais the feast is laid;
And there alike in pomp divine
Heroes and blissful Powers recline.
There sits Heimdaller, God of light,
Robed in pure garb of lustrous white.
He, from nine wonderous virgins born,
Blows loud his bright celestial horn;
The golden horn, whose magic sound

Kona Braga heitr Idun. Hon vardveitr i eski sino epli thau er Gudin skulo a bita tha er thau elldaz. Ok verda tha allir ungir, ok sva mun verda til Ragnaraucks.

i. e. “The wife of Braga is called Idun. She preserves in her box those apples which the gods bite when they grow old, and they all become young again: and so it must be till the end of the world.”


Is heard by every world around,
Waking to life each thing that grows,
Each form that breathes, each rill that flows.
He hears each floweret burst the bud,
Each vapor rising from the flood;
His ear can mark the springing grass,
The silent waters slowly pass;
The curls that grace the neck of snow,
And on the cheek the soft down grow.
And there Iduna, Queen of youth,

Braga was the god of poetry.


With blushing face and rosy mouth,
Breathing sweet health: behold her bear,

Tyr was the god of victory.


In a rich casket pure and fair,

Thor was the son of Jord, the earth. He is celebrated for his military prowess and his voracity. He was held in great veneration as one of the most, powerful deities, and he is supposed to have been considered by some of the northern tribes as superior even to Odin. His hammer, which was shaped like a cross, was the symbol used to summon the chiefs to council, and the dependants to arms: and after the introduction of christianity the same cross continued to be used for that purpose.


That fragrant fruit of loveliest hue,

Nicrder was of the nation of the Vanir, a Grecian colony, who are always called in the old northern writings the wise Vanir. He is said to have been educated in Vanaheim, and to have been given up by the Vanir to the Gods or Goths in exchange for one of their number, as a hostage on the re-establishment of peace between them.

I VanaheimiI aldar rauc
Scopo hann vís Regin,Hann mun aptr coma
Oc seldu at gislingo Godum;Heim med vísom Vaunom.

i. e. “In Vanaheim, the wise deities created him, and gave him as a hostage to the gods. At the end of ages he must return home to the wise Vanir.”— Vafthrudnismal, 39.

The Edda says that he rules over the motion of the winds, can tranquillize the sea, winds, and fire; and that he is to be invoked by all seafaring men and hunters. He appears to have made a very uncomfortable marriage in Norway, where he espoused a mountain nymph, called Skada, the daughter of the giant Thiassa, at Drontheim. Niorder dwelt at Noatun by the sea-side; but Skada was an expert and active huntress, and could not be prevailed upon to dwell with her husband on the sea-coast; and it was at last agreed between them, that they should pass nine nights in the mountains of Drontheim, and three by the sea-side at Noatun. The dissatisfaction of both parties is whimsically expressed in the Edda, where Niorder, on his return after passing nine disagreeable nights in the mountains, says:

Heid erumz fioll.Ulfa thytr,
Varkada ek længiEr af vidi kemr
Hia nætr einar nio.Morgin hvern mer.

“The mountains are hateful, I have been sleepless these nine long nights. The wolves howl that come to me from the wood every morning.” To this Skada answers,

Safa ek makiSa mik vekr;
Sœvar bedium,Mer thotti illr vera
A fugls jarmi fyrir,Hia saungvi svana.

“Can I sleep easy on the bed of the seagod, amidst the wail of the sea-fowl that wakes me? To me it seems disagreeable to be near the song of the swans.” Niorder had two children, Freyr, the god of peace and plenty, and Freya, the goddess of beauty, by a former wife, while he dwelt amongst the Vanir.


Sprinkled with heaven's immortal dew,
Which tasted makes the wrinkled brow
Again like polish'd ivory glow!
And, near, her spouse, to whom belong
The warblings of each liquid song,

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Braga, by bards adored; and he,
The blood-stain'd lord of victory,

Freya was the goddess of beauty, and has been generally called the northern Venus. She wears a necklace of the most brilliant stones, which is frequently mentioned as her peculiar ornament. The goddess of love in the northern mythology is properly Siofna, who is in fact a female Cupid: but she is not often mentioned, nor with any particular attributes or description.


All-glorious Tyr, in battle crown'd;
And Thor, for courage high renown'd,
With that huge hammer in his grasp,
Which made the bruised Jotuns gasp.
There sits Niorder, at whose voice
The unfetter'd waves and winds rejoice;

Vidar is the god of silence and retirement. It is said in the Edda, that he affords great consolation to the gods in all difficulties and dangers. At the end of the world, after the destruction of Odin and the other gods, Vidar, the god of silence, and Vali, the god of strength, will alone survive. Vidar is said in Grimnismál to dwell in a bower covered with willows and high grass.

Hrisi vexEnn thar maugr af læzc
Oc há grasiAf mars baki
Vidars land vidi;Fröcn ok hefna faudor.

i. e. “The habitation of Vidar grows with twigs, high grass, and willows. Yet from thence shall the youth spring from the horse's back valiant, and revenge his father.”


There Skada chaste, his mountain bride,
And Freyr, by whose all-bounteous side
Stands smiling peace to wealth allied:
And, near, his sister's blooming form,
With kindling love and beauty warm,
Freyia, from whom flows every bliss,
The willing smile, the melting kiss.
Voluptuous fragrance round her breathes,

The Edda says, Forseti was the son of Balder, and Nauna Nef's daughter. “All who come before him with disputes, depart reconciled; he is the best judge amongst gods and men.” In Grimnismál, stanza 15.

Glitnir er inn tiundi;Enn thar Forseti byggir
Han er gulli studdr,Flestan dag,
Ok silfri thactr id sama.Ok svæfer allar sakir.

i. e. “Glitnir is the tenth dwelling of the gods. It is propped with gold, and the same is covered with silver. And there Forseti dwells most days, and puts to rest all disputes.”


Her brows are twined with perfumed wreaths;

Vali the god of strength, son of Odin and Rinda. Hauder the blind god had slain Balder. Vali, on the very night of his birth, revenged the death of Balder, by killing Hauder. This wonderful feat, which has some analogy to the fable of Hercules strangling the serpents in his cradle, is foretold by the prophetess in the descent of Odin, which has been translated by Gray. Rinda came from the east of Russia. The lines,

“In the caverns of the west,
“A wonderous son shall Rinda bear,”

in Gray's translation mean that she had come from the east to dwell with Odin in the more western parts of Europe. In the original, the lines are:

Rindr berr sonSá man Odins son
I Væstr sölum;Æin-nættr vega.

i. e. “In the western halls, Rinda shall bear a son. He shall kill Odin's son (Hauder) when only one night old.”

The same account is given in Völospá. I have called Rinda the daughter of the Sun on the authority of a passage in Vafthrudnismál, Eina dóttur berr Alfrödull, i. e. “The Sun shall bear one daughter,” and of another passage in Hrafna-galldr Odins, where the sun is called Rindar módur, the mother of Rinda, as well as Alfraudul. It is remarkable that in the northern mythology the sun is a female, and the moon a male deity.


And round her neck, with sumptuous show,
Rich gems in magic order glow.
There silent Vidar, whose delight
Is the still gloom of peaceful night;
Who loves to haunt the margin green
Of some calm lake the rocks between,
And mark the lingering beam of day
Yield slowly to the twilight grey:
Beneath the willow's shadowy bower

His name was Hræsvelger. He is thus described in the thirty-seventh stanza of Vafthrudnismál.

Hræsvelger heiter,Af hans vengiom
Er sitr á himins enda,Qveda vind koma
Jotun i arnar ham;Alla menn yfir,

i. e. “He is called Hræsvelger, who sits at the extremity of the heavens, a giant in the clothing of an eagle. From his wings it is said that the winds proceed over all mankind.”


Alone he spends the pensive hour.
There wise Forseti, judge of right;
And he, whose wonderous infant might
Slew hateful Hauder reft of sight,

There is an account of this shield in the thirty-eighth stanza of Grimnismál.

Svalin heitir, han stendrBiörg ok brim ec veit
Solo fyri,At brenna scolo,
Sciöldr scinanda gudi,Ef han fellr i frá.

i. e. “Svalin is his name, he stands a shield before the sun, the shining deity. I know that the hills and the sea would burn, if it were to fall from its place.”


Vali, to Odin whom of yore
The ruddy Sun's bright daughter bore,

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Chaste Rinda; and the self-same night
Saw his proud deeds, the baleful light
Of pyre funereal, and the slain

There are many other divinities enumerated in the northern mythology. Uller, the son of Sifia, who is said to have introduced the use of fire, and Frigga, the wife of Odin, who is called the first of the goddesses. Saga is mentioned in the Edda as the second goddess; but her attributes are not mentioned. In Grimnismál it is said, that her habitation is amongst waterfalls, and that she and Odin drink together out of golden vessels. Gefion was attended upon by females, who died in their virginity. Fulla, with long flowing hair and a gold band round her forehead, was the handmaid of Frigga. Vara presided over oaths, Lofen over friendships, Syn over closed doors and refusals, Hlin over childbirth. There were many others of less importance. I have only mentioned in the poem those whose attributes appeared to furnish the most poetical images.


Borne in slow pomp along the plain,
The curse of Gods, loved Balder's bane.
And he, at heaven's extremest verge,

The Valkyriur are mentioned in Grimnismál as bearing the horn in their hands, and offering the liquor to the heroes in Valhalla. The description of the hall of Odin is taken from Grimnismál.

Gladsheimir heitir enn fimti,Miöc er audkent
Thars hin gullbiartaTheim er til Odins koma
Valhaull víd of thrumir.Sal-kynni at sia.
Enn thar Hroptr kyssSkauptom er rann rept,
Hverian dagScioldom er salr thakidr,
Vapn-dauda vera.Bryniom um becki strád.

i. e. “Gladsheimr is the name of the fifth habitation. There bright with gold the wide Valhall (or hall of the slain) is firmly fixed; and there Odin chooses each day the men slain by weapons. It is easily distinguished by those who come to see the palace inhabited by Odin. The building is roofed with shafts of spears, the hall is covered (or thatched) with shields. Coats of mail are spread on the benches.”


Who broods o'er Ocean's swelling surge,
With giant form, and frequent flings
The tempest from his eagle wings:
And more benign, that mighty Power,
Who, in the hot meridian hour,
Spreads his broad shield thro' ample space
Before the Sun's refulgent face,
Screening from flame the liquid main,
Each shadowy hill and grassy plain.
Nor these alone, but all who boast

According to the northern mythology, the destruction of the world will be preceded by three winters of intense severity, without the intervention of any summer, the sun having lost its power; after which Surtur riding at the head of the sons of Muspell, will attack the gods (Muspellheim being, as it seems, the region or abode of fire, from whence it is said in the Edda, that the gods obtained the chariot of the sun), fire will blaze before and after the footsteps of Surtur, and his sword will glitter like the sun. Heimdaller will blow a loud blast with his horn to alarm the gods, who will go forth to the combat accompanied by all the souls of heroes. The gods, after slaying many of their opponents, will fall in the contest: after which Surtur will destroy the whole universe by fire. Vidar will avenge the death of Odin, and after the destruction of the world by fire, Vidar and Vali, the powers of silence and strength, will alone survive; and Majesty and Might, the sons of Thor (that is, of Fortitude) will put an end to the confusion.

Vidar oc ValiModi oc Magni
Byggia ve goda,Scolo Miöllni hafa,
Thá er slocnar Surta logi.Ok vinna at vigthroti.

i. e. “Silence and Strength shall inhabit the mansions of the gods, after the fire of Surtur shall have been extinguished. Majesty and Might will obtain the hammer of Thor, and put an end to the warfare by perseverance.”— Vafthrudnismál, 51.


Of might in heaven's ambrosial host,
And they whoe'er in battle slain
Did once on earth high honor gain.
The radiant Maids, whom oft the Lord
Of war sends forth with lance and sword,
There pour the mead and deck the board.
Glitters like fire the shining hall;
Helmets and banners deck the wall;
Of lances huge the dome is made,
And thousand shields above are laid:
The benches bright as burnish'd gold,
Are strewn with mail of warriors bold.
There shall they quaff the fragrant bowl,
Till round the flames of Surtur roll.
Then shall each banner be displaced,
Each helm and falchion seized in haste;

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The golden horn shall sound afar,
Arousing all the gods to war;
In vain, for two alone shall live
To tell how fiends with Odin strive,
Vidar and Vali; for the day
Will come, when gods shall lose their sway,
When heaven itself shall melt away,
And, her dread banners wide unfurl'd,
Confusion stalk around the world.
Three long continuous winters past
Without one beam of radiance cast,
Around shall roar the fiery blast,
And gods shall fall; the flaming storm
Shall wither every living form;
But Might and Majesty shall stand
Stilling the strife with armed hand,
And, when old Odin's glories fail,
Silence and Strength alone prevail.
Now firm in war, to honor true,
Hialmar joins the blisful crew.
To meet him heaven's all-mighty Sire
And all that bright celestial choir
Rise from their thrones of light; but he,
Drawn back by mournful sympathy,
Looks piteous down on Helga's bower,
Heedless of each immortal Power,
And casts one glance on Samsoe's shore,
Where lie his cold remains in gore.
END OF CANTO VI.