The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
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 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
II. THE FINDING OF BALDER.
I. Frea in the Wood.
Blue night. Along the lonely forest way
The goddess, mighty-limb'd and marble white,
Tall in the shadow of the pines that waved
Their black arms in the moonrise overhead,
Stole silent-footed. Round her naked feet
The dews were luminous, and the breath of flowers
Rose from the scented path of grass and fern,
And all was stiller than a maiden's dream.
From grove to grove she went, like one that knew
Each shadow of that silent forest old,
And ever as she went the tangled light
That trembled on her thro' the woven boughs
Grew deeper and more dewy, until at last
She knew by chilly gleams upon the grass
That dawn was come. Still did that umbrage deep
Remain in dimness, tho' afar away
The hills were kindling with dull blood-red fires;
But when the trumpet of the day was blown
From the great golden gateways of the sun,
When leaf by leaf the crimson rose o' the east
Open'd, and leaf by leaf illumed in turn
Glitter'd the snowy lily of the north,
She left the shelter of those woods, and stood
Under the shining canopy of heaven.
The goddess, mighty-limb'd and marble white,
Tall in the shadow of the pines that waved
Their black arms in the moonrise overhead,
Stole silent-footed. Round her naked feet
The dews were luminous, and the breath of flowers
Rose from the scented path of grass and fern,
And all was stiller than a maiden's dream.
From grove to grove she went, like one that knew
Each shadow of that silent forest old,
And ever as she went the tangled light
That trembled on her thro' the woven boughs
Grew deeper and more dewy, until at last
She knew by chilly gleams upon the grass
That dawn was come. Still did that umbrage deep
Remain in dimness, tho' afar away
The hills were kindling with dull blood-red fires;
But when the trumpet of the day was blown
From the great golden gateways of the sun,
When leaf by leaf the crimson rose o' the east
Open'd, and leaf by leaf illumed in turn
Glitter'd the snowy lily of the north,
She left the shelter of those woods, and stood
Under the shining canopy of heaven.
Betore her lay a vast and tranquil lake,
And wading in its shallows silently
Great storks of golden white and light green cranes
Stood sentinel, while far as eye could see,
Swam the wild water-lily's oilëd leaves.
Still was that place as sleep, yet evermore
A stir amid its stillness; for behold,
At every breath of the warm summer wind
Blown on the beating bosom of the lake,
The white swarms of the new-born lily-flowers,
A pinch of gold-dust in the heart of each,
Rose from the bubbling depths, and open'd up,
And floated luminous with cups of snow.
Across that water came so sweet an air,
It fell upon the immortal mother's brow
Like coolest morning dew, and tho' she stood
Beneath the open arch of heaven, the light
Stole thro' the gauze of a soft summer mist
Most gentle and subdued. Then while she paused
Close to the rippling shallows sown with reeds,
Those cranes and storks arose above her head
In one vast cloud of flying green and gold;
And from the under-heaven innumerable
The lilies upward to the surface snow'd,
Till all the waters glitter'd gold and white;
And lo! the sun swept shining up the east,
And thro' the cloud of birds, and on the lake,
Shot sudden rays of light miraculous,—
Until the goddess veil'd her dazzled eyes,
And with the heaving whiteness at her feet
Her bosom heaved, till of that tremulous life
She seem'd a throbbing part!
And wading in its shallows silently
Great storks of golden white and light green cranes
Stood sentinel, while far as eye could see,
Swam the wild water-lily's oilëd leaves.
Still was that place as sleep, yet evermore
A stir amid its stillness; for behold,
At every breath of the warm summer wind
Blown on the beating bosom of the lake,
The white swarms of the new-born lily-flowers,
A pinch of gold-dust in the heart of each,
Rose from the bubbling depths, and open'd up,
And floated luminous with cups of snow.
Across that water came so sweet an air,
It fell upon the immortal mother's brow
Like coolest morning dew, and tho' she stood
Beneath the open arch of heaven, the light
Stole thro' the gauze of a soft summer mist
Most gentle and subdued. Then while she paused
Close to the rippling shallows sown with reeds,
Those cranes and storks arose above her head
In one vast cloud of flying green and gold;
And from the under-heaven innumerable
The lilies upward to the surface snow'd,
434
And lo! the sun swept shining up the east,
And thro' the cloud of birds, and on the lake,
Shot sudden rays of light miraculous,—
Until the goddess veil'd her dazzled eyes,
And with the heaving whiteness at her feet
Her bosom heaved, till of that tremulous life
She seem'd a throbbing part!
Tall by the marge
The goddess tower'd, and her immortal face
Was shining as anointed; then she cried,
‘Balder!’ and like the faint cry of a bird
That passeth overhead, the sound was borne
Between the burning ether and the earth.
Then once again she called, outstretching arms,
‘Balder!’ Upon her face the summer light
Trembled in benediction, while the voice
Was lifted up and echoed till it died
Far off amid the forest silences.
The goddess tower'd, and her immortal face
Was shining as anointed; then she cried,
‘Balder!’ and like the faint cry of a bird
That passeth overhead, the sound was borne
Between the burning ether and the earth.
Then once again she called, outstretching arms,
‘Balder!’ Upon her face the summer light
Trembled in benediction, while the voice
Was lifted up and echoed till it died
Far off amid the forest silences.
A space she paused, smiling and listening,
Gazing upon the lilies as they rose
Large, luminously fair, and new-baptized;
And once again she would have call'd aloud,
When far across the waters suddenly
There shone a light as of the morning star;
Which coming nearer seem'd as some bright bird
Floating amid the lilies and their leaves,
And presently, approaching closer still,
Assumed the likeness of a shining shape,
Who, with white shoulders from the waters reaching,
And sunlight burning on his golden hair,
Swam like a swan. Upon his naked arms
The amber light was melted, while they clove
The crystal depths and softly swept aside
The glittering lilies and their clustering leaves;
And on the forehead of him burnt serene
A light as of a pearl more wonderful
Than ever from the crimson seas of Ind
Was snatch'd by human hand; for pearl it seem'd,
Tho' blood-red, and as lustrous as a star.
Him Frea breathless watch'd, for all the air
Was golden with his glory as he came;
And o'er his head the bird-cloud hover'd bright
With murmurs deep; and thro' the lake he swam
With arm-sweeps swift, till in the shallows bright,
Still dripping from the kisses of the waves,
He rose erect in loveliness divine.
The lustre from his ivory arms and limbs
Stream'd as he stood, and from his yellow hair
A glory rain'd upon his neck and breast,
While burning unextinguish'd on his brow
Shone that strange star.
Gazing upon the lilies as they rose
Large, luminously fair, and new-baptized;
And once again she would have call'd aloud,
When far across the waters suddenly
There shone a light as of the morning star;
Which coming nearer seem'd as some bright bird
Floating amid the lilies and their leaves,
And presently, approaching closer still,
Assumed the likeness of a shining shape,
Who, with white shoulders from the waters reaching,
And sunlight burning on his golden hair,
Swam like a swan. Upon his naked arms
The amber light was melted, while they clove
The crystal depths and softly swept aside
The glittering lilies and their clustering leaves;
And on the forehead of him burnt serene
A light as of a pearl more wonderful
Than ever from the crimson seas of Ind
Was snatch'd by human hand; for pearl it seem'd,
Tho' blood-red, and as lustrous as a star.
Him Frea breathless watch'd, for all the air
Was golden with his glory as he came;
And o'er his head the bird-cloud hover'd bright
With murmurs deep; and thro' the lake he swam
With arm-sweeps swift, till in the shallows bright,
Still dripping from the kisses of the waves,
He rose erect in loveliness divine.
The lustre from his ivory arms and limbs
Stream'd as he stood, and from his yellow hair
A glory rain'd upon his neck and breast,
While burning unextinguish'd on his brow
Shone that strange star.
Then as he shining rose,
And on her form the new effulgence fell,
The goddess, with her face beatified,
Yet gentle as a mortal mother's, cried
‘Balder! my Balder!’—and while from all the woods,
And from the waters wide, and from the air
Still rainbow'd with the flashing flight of birds,
Innumerable echoes answer'd, ‘Balder!’—
Clad in his gentle godhead Balder stood,
Bright, beautiful, and palpably divine.
And on her form the new effulgence fell,
The goddess, with her face beatified,
Yet gentle as a mortal mother's, cried
‘Balder! my Balder!’—and while from all the woods,
And from the waters wide, and from the air
Still rainbow'd with the flashing flight of birds,
Innumerable echoes answer'd, ‘Balder!’—
Clad in his gentle godhead Balder stood,
Bright, beautiful, and palpably divine.
II. The Shadow in the Wood.
‘Mother!’ he said, and on that mother's face
Fixing the brightness of his starry eyes,
He kiss'd her, smiling. E'en as sunlight falls
Upon the whiteness of some western cloud,
Irradiating and illuming it,
His beauty smote her sadness: silently
She trembled; and her large immortal orbs
Were raised to heaven. For a space she stood
O'er-master'd by that splendour, but at last,
While softly from her forehead and her cheeks
The loving rapture ebb'd, and once again
Her face grew alabaster calm and cold,
Her soul found speech.
Fixing the brightness of his starry eyes,
He kiss'd her, smiling. E'en as sunlight falls
Upon the whiteness of some western cloud,
Irradiating and illuming it,
His beauty smote her sadness: silently
She trembled; and her large immortal orbs
Were raised to heaven. For a space she stood
O'er-master'd by that splendour, but at last,
While softly from her forehead and her cheeks
The loving rapture ebb'd, and once again
Her face grew alabaster calm and cold,
Her soul found speech.
‘O Balder! best beloved!
God of the sunlight and the summer stars,
White Shepherd of the gentle beasts and birds,
Benign-eyed watcher of all beauteous things,
Thou know'st me! thou rememberest! thou art here,
Supreme, a god, my Son!—Within thine eyes
Immortal innocence and mortal peace
Are blent to love and gentleness divine;
And tho' I left thee in these woods a babe,
Fair and unconscious as a fallen flower,
And tho' I have not watch'd thy beauty grow,
I come again to seek thee, and behold
Thou know'st me—thou rememberest! thou art here,
Supreme, a god, my Son! Blest be those powers
To whose lone keeping I committed thee!
The heavens have shone upon thee, and the boughs
Have curtain'd thee for slumber, and the rain
Hath smooth'd thy soft limbs with its silvern fingers,
And gently ministrant to thee have been
The starlight and the moonlight and the dew,
And in their seasons all the forest flowers;
And from the crimson of divine deep dawns
And from the flush of setting suns, thy cheeks
Have gather'd such a splendour as appals
The vision, even mine. Balder! beloved!
Speak to me! tell me how thy soul hath fared
Alone so long in these green solitudes.’
God of the sunlight and the summer stars,
White Shepherd of the gentle beasts and birds,
Benign-eyed watcher of all beauteous things,
435
Supreme, a god, my Son!—Within thine eyes
Immortal innocence and mortal peace
Are blent to love and gentleness divine;
And tho' I left thee in these woods a babe,
Fair and unconscious as a fallen flower,
And tho' I have not watch'd thy beauty grow,
I come again to seek thee, and behold
Thou know'st me—thou rememberest! thou art here,
Supreme, a god, my Son! Blest be those powers
To whose lone keeping I committed thee!
The heavens have shone upon thee, and the boughs
Have curtain'd thee for slumber, and the rain
Hath smooth'd thy soft limbs with its silvern fingers,
And gently ministrant to thee have been
The starlight and the moonlight and the dew,
And in their seasons all the forest flowers;
And from the crimson of divine deep dawns
And from the flush of setting suns, thy cheeks
Have gather'd such a splendour as appals
The vision, even mine. Balder! beloved!
Speak to me! tell me how thy soul hath fared
Alone so long in these green solitudes.’
She ceased, and Balder smiled again, and took
Her hand and held it as he answer'd her;
And ne'er was sound of falling summer showers
On boughs with lilac laden and with rose,
Or cuckoo-cries o'er emerald uplands heard,
Or musical murmurs of dark summer dawns,
More sweet than Balder's voice. ‘O Mother, Mother,’
It answer'd, ‘when I saw thee from afar,
Silent, stone-still, with shadow at thy feet,
I knew thee well, for nightly evermore
I have seen thy shape in sleep.’ And while the face
Of the great goddess kindled once again
With its maternal love ineffable,
He added, ‘Thou shalt read me all my dream!
For in a dream here have I grown and thriven,
With such dim rapture as those lilies feel
Awakening and uprising mystically
From darkness to the brightness of the air;
And growing in a dream I have beheld
All things grow gladder with me, sun and star,
Strange fronds, and all the wonders of the wood;
Till round me, with me, soul and part of me,
This world hath kindled like an opening rose.
And happy had I been as any bird
Singing full-throated in the summer light,
But for some dark and broken images
Which come to me in sleep—yea come each night
When from the starlight and the silvern moon
I fade with closëd eyes. But thou art here,
And in the love of thy celestial looks
I read the answer to the mystery
Of my dim earthly being.’
Her hand and held it as he answer'd her;
And ne'er was sound of falling summer showers
On boughs with lilac laden and with rose,
Or cuckoo-cries o'er emerald uplands heard,
Or musical murmurs of dark summer dawns,
More sweet than Balder's voice. ‘O Mother, Mother,’
It answer'd, ‘when I saw thee from afar,
Silent, stone-still, with shadow at thy feet,
I knew thee well, for nightly evermore
I have seen thy shape in sleep.’ And while the face
Of the great goddess kindled once again
With its maternal love ineffable,
He added, ‘Thou shalt read me all my dream!
For in a dream here have I grown and thriven,
With such dim rapture as those lilies feel
Awakening and uprising mystically
From darkness to the brightness of the air;
And growing in a dream I have beheld
All things grow gladder with me, sun and star,
Strange fronds, and all the wonders of the wood;
Till round me, with me, soul and part of me,
This world hath kindled like an opening rose.
And happy had I been as any bird
Singing full-throated in the summer light,
But for some dark and broken images
Which come to me in sleep—yea come each night
When from the starlight and the silvern moon
I fade with closëd eyes. But thou art here,
And in the love of thy celestial looks
I read the answer to the mystery
Of my dim earthly being.’
As he spake,
Across the goddess' face and thro' her frame
There pass'd the wind of an old prophecy,
Bending her downward as a storm-swept bough.
‘In sleep! what shapes have come to thee in sleep?’
She cried, and Balder answer'd, ‘It were long
To tell thee all, my Mother! but meseems
I have dream'd nightly of mysterious forms
White-brow'd like thee and very beautiful—
Strange spirits, each more bright than is a star,
In robes of linen and of whitest wool,
And some all raimentless as leaf or flower,
And in their nakedness the more divine.’
Then Frea smiled and answer'd, ‘That is well—
These, Balder, are thy sisters and my kin,
Less beautiful than thou, yet very fair.’
And Balder said, ‘Ofttimes mine eyes have seen
Great shapes caparison'd in burning gold,
Tall as the tallest pine within these woods,
Who flash'd red brands together, or upheld
Bright cups of ruby, gazing on each other!’
And Frea smiled and said, ‘That too is well—
Those, Balder, are thy brethren and thy peers,
Great gods, yet less than thou.’ Then Balder's voice
Sank lower, saying, ‘Three times in my sleep
I have seen my Father!’
Across the goddess' face and thro' her frame
There pass'd the wind of an old prophecy,
Bending her downward as a storm-swept bough.
‘In sleep! what shapes have come to thee in sleep?’
She cried, and Balder answer'd, ‘It were long
To tell thee all, my Mother! but meseems
I have dream'd nightly of mysterious forms
White-brow'd like thee and very beautiful—
Strange spirits, each more bright than is a star,
In robes of linen and of whitest wool,
And some all raimentless as leaf or flower,
And in their nakedness the more divine.’
Then Frea smiled and answer'd, ‘That is well—
These, Balder, are thy sisters and my kin,
Less beautiful than thou, yet very fair.’
And Balder said, ‘Ofttimes mine eyes have seen
Great shapes caparison'd in burning gold,
Tall as the tallest pine within these woods,
Who flash'd red brands together, or upheld
Bright cups of ruby, gazing on each other!’
436
Those, Balder, are thy brethren and thy peers,
Great gods, yet less than thou.’ Then Balder's voice
Sank lower, saying, ‘Three times in my sleep
I have seen my Father!’
Frea's cheek was blanch'd,
And pressing one white hand upon her heart,
‘How seem'd he in thy sleep?’ the goddess sigh'd,
‘Frown'd he or smiled he? speak!’ And Balder said,
In solemn whispers, sinking ever lower,
‘My soul perceived a darkness and a sound
Of many voices wailing, and I seem'd
As one that drifts upon a sunless water,
Amid the washing of a weary rain—
Wet were my locks and dripping, and my limbs
Hung heavily as lead—while wave by wave
I floated to some vapour-shrouded shore.
At last, wash'd in upon the slippery weeds,
I saw before me on a mountain top
One brooding like a cloud; and as a cloud
At first he seem'd, yet ever as I look'd
Grew shapen to an image terrible,
With eyes eternal gazing down at mine.
And as I rose a voice came from the cloud
Like far-off muffled thunder, crying “Balder!
Come hither, my son Balder!”—when in fear
I scream'd and woke, and saw the daylight dance
Golden upon the forests and the meres.’
And pressing one white hand upon her heart,
‘How seem'd he in thy sleep?’ the goddess sigh'd,
‘Frown'd he or smiled he? speak!’ And Balder said,
In solemn whispers, sinking ever lower,
‘My soul perceived a darkness and a sound
Of many voices wailing, and I seem'd
As one that drifts upon a sunless water,
Amid the washing of a weary rain—
Wet were my locks and dripping, and my limbs
Hung heavily as lead—while wave by wave
I floated to some vapour-shrouded shore.
At last, wash'd in upon the slippery weeds,
I saw before me on a mountain top
One brooding like a cloud; and as a cloud
At first he seem'd, yet ever as I look'd
Grew shapen to an image terrible,
With eyes eternal gazing down at mine.
And as I rose a voice came from the cloud
Like far-off muffled thunder, crying “Balder!
Come hither, my son Balder!”—when in fear
I scream'd and woke, and saw the daylight dance
Golden upon the forests and the meres.’
He ceased; and utter pity fill'd his soul
To see across his beauteous Mother's face
The scorching of unutterable pain;
Then thrice the troubled goddess raised her eyes
And gazed up northward where the rose-red shafts
Of dawn were trembling on the cloud-capt towers
Of Asgard; thrice the sorrow master'd her;
But soon her strong soul conquer'd, and she forced
A strange sad look of calm. ‘If that be all,
Take courage—and I do conjure thee now,
Fear not thy Father. If that Father ever
Hath cherish'd dread of thee, the loveliness
Of thy completed godhead shall disarm
His wrath,—yea, win his love.’ Her gentle hand
Clasp'd his with more than mortal tenderness,
And in his eyes she gazed again and drank
The solace of his beauty while the dawn
Encrimson'd both and all the heavens and air,
But Balder trembled shrinking to her side,
And cried, with quick eyes glancing all around,
‘Mother, that is not all!’
To see across his beauteous Mother's face
The scorching of unutterable pain;
Then thrice the troubled goddess raised her eyes
And gazed up northward where the rose-red shafts
Of dawn were trembling on the cloud-capt towers
Of Asgard; thrice the sorrow master'd her;
But soon her strong soul conquer'd, and she forced
A strange sad look of calm. ‘If that be all,
Take courage—and I do conjure thee now,
Fear not thy Father. If that Father ever
Hath cherish'd dread of thee, the loveliness
Of thy completed godhead shall disarm
His wrath,—yea, win his love.’ Her gentle hand
Clasp'd his with more than mortal tenderness,
And in his eyes she gazed again and drank
The solace of his beauty while the dawn
Encrimson'd both and all the heavens and air,
But Balder trembled shrinking to her side,
And cried, with quick eyes glancing all around,
‘Mother, that is not all!’
‘O speak no more,’
The goddess said, ‘if aught else terrible
Thine eyes have vision'd or thy sense hath dream'd,
Speak, speak, no more!’ but Balder answer'd, ‘Mother!
A weight is on my heart, and I must speak.
Last night I dream'd the strangest dream of dreams!
Methought I in the summer woodland walk'd
And pluck'd white daffodils and pansies blue,
And as I went I sang such songs as sing
The spirits of the forest and the stream;
And presently the golden light went in,
But balmy darkness follow'd, for the rain
Patter'd with diamond dews innumerable
On the green roof of umbrage overhead.
I stood and waited, listening. Then methought
I heard a voice from far away—thy voice
It seem'd, my Mother—murmur three times “Balder!”
And as it ceased, there pierced the wood's green heart
A shriek so sharp and shrill that all my blood
Turn'd cold to listen! Suddenly I felt
My brow was damp with chilly drops of rain,
And looking up I saw that every leaf
Had wither'd from the branches overhead,
Leaving them black against a sunless heaven
Of dark and dreary gray. Again I heard
Thy voice moan “Balder,” and methought the boughs
Toss'd their wild arms above and echoed “Balder,”
When lo, the black and miserable rain
Came slower and slower, wavering through the dark,
Till every drop was as a flake of white
Falling upon the ground as light as wool!
And terror seized me, and I felt my heart
Cold as a stone, and from my hands the flowers
Dropt, wither'd, with that whiteness on the ground.
I tried to stir, and could not stir; I sought
To shake the chilly flakes from off my neck,
But could not; and each time I sought to cry.
My cries were frozen in my throat. Now mark!
O mark, my mother, for these things are strange!
As thus I stood, mine eyes were 'ware of One,
A Shape with shadowy arms outspread like wings,
Which, hovering o'er me even as a hawk,
Fix'd on my face its fatal luminous eyes.
O Mother, that wan shape! The forest holds,
In form of beast or bird or glittering snake,
No likeness of its awful lineaments!
For ever as its features seem'd to take
Clearness and semblance, they did fade away
Into a swooning dimness; and it seem'd
Now shapen and now shapeless, blowing amid
The wonder of that wan and sunless shower.
Yet ever as I gazed it gazed again,
And ever circling nearer seem'd in act
To swoop upon me with cold claws and clutch
The heart that flutter'd wildly in my breast.
At last that look became too much to bear:
Answering at last thy scream, I scream'd aloud;
And as I scream'd, I woke—and saw again
The sunlight on the forests and the meres.’
The goddess said, ‘if aught else terrible
Thine eyes have vision'd or thy sense hath dream'd,
Speak, speak, no more!’ but Balder answer'd, ‘Mother!
A weight is on my heart, and I must speak.
Last night I dream'd the strangest dream of dreams!
Methought I in the summer woodland walk'd
And pluck'd white daffodils and pansies blue,
And as I went I sang such songs as sing
The spirits of the forest and the stream;
And presently the golden light went in,
But balmy darkness follow'd, for the rain
Patter'd with diamond dews innumerable
On the green roof of umbrage overhead.
I stood and waited, listening. Then methought
I heard a voice from far away—thy voice
It seem'd, my Mother—murmur three times “Balder!”
And as it ceased, there pierced the wood's green heart
A shriek so sharp and shrill that all my blood
Turn'd cold to listen! Suddenly I felt
My brow was damp with chilly drops of rain,
And looking up I saw that every leaf
Had wither'd from the branches overhead,
Leaving them black against a sunless heaven
Of dark and dreary gray. Again I heard
437
Toss'd their wild arms above and echoed “Balder,”
When lo, the black and miserable rain
Came slower and slower, wavering through the dark,
Till every drop was as a flake of white
Falling upon the ground as light as wool!
And terror seized me, and I felt my heart
Cold as a stone, and from my hands the flowers
Dropt, wither'd, with that whiteness on the ground.
I tried to stir, and could not stir; I sought
To shake the chilly flakes from off my neck,
But could not; and each time I sought to cry.
My cries were frozen in my throat. Now mark!
O mark, my mother, for these things are strange!
As thus I stood, mine eyes were 'ware of One,
A Shape with shadowy arms outspread like wings,
Which, hovering o'er me even as a hawk,
Fix'd on my face its fatal luminous eyes.
O Mother, that wan shape! The forest holds,
In form of beast or bird or glittering snake,
No likeness of its awful lineaments!
For ever as its features seem'd to take
Clearness and semblance, they did fade away
Into a swooning dimness; and it seem'd
Now shapen and now shapeless, blowing amid
The wonder of that wan and sunless shower.
Yet ever as I gazed it gazed again,
And ever circling nearer seem'd in act
To swoop upon me with cold claws and clutch
The heart that flutter'd wildly in my breast.
At last that look became too much to bear:
Answering at last thy scream, I scream'd aloud;
And as I scream'd, I woke—and saw again
The sunlight on the forests and the meres.’
Now ev'n as Balder spake the goddess' face
Was like a shrouded woman's: once again
She gazed at heaven, and her eyes were glazed
With agony and despair, for now she knew
That shape which Balder had beheld in dream
Was he whom mortal man have christen'd Death.
At last she spake, and all her proud soul flash'd,
Rebuking its own terror. ‘Unto all,
Yea even unto gods upon their thrones,
Such shadows come in sleep; thy Father even
Hath had his visions, and I too have mine;
But be of comfort since thou art my Son,
For he who hover'd o'er thee in thy dream
Is impotent against the strength of gods.
Haunter is he of this sad nether sphere,
And on the little life of bird and beast,
And on the life of flowers and falling leaves,
His breath comes chill, but to the Shapes divine
He is as wind that bloweth afar below
The silence of the peaks.’
Was like a shrouded woman's: once again
She gazed at heaven, and her eyes were glazed
With agony and despair, for now she knew
That shape which Balder had beheld in dream
Was he whom mortal man have christen'd Death.
At last she spake, and all her proud soul flash'd,
Rebuking its own terror. ‘Unto all,
Yea even unto gods upon their thrones,
Such shadows come in sleep; thy Father even
Hath had his visions, and I too have mine;
But be of comfort since thou art my Son,
For he who hover'd o'er thee in thy dream
Is impotent against the strength of gods.
Haunter is he of this sad nether sphere,
And on the little life of bird and beast,
And on the life of flowers and falling leaves,
His breath comes chill, but to the Shapes divine
He is as wind that bloweth afar below
The silence of the peaks.’
Ev'n as she spake,
On her bright Balder gazed not, but with eyes
Fix'd as in fascination, cried aloud
‘Look! look!’—and pointed.
On her bright Balder gazed not, but with eyes
Fix'd as in fascination, cried aloud
‘Look! look!’—and pointed.
Close to that bright spot
Whereon they stood in the full flame of day,
The forest open'd, flashing green and gold,
Sparkling with quick and rapturous thrill of leaves
And rainbow-flush of flowers. Upon a bough
That reach'd its heavy-laden emerald arm
Into the summer light beyond the shade,
There clung, with panting breast and fluttering wings,
A trembling ringdove whose soft iris'd eyes
Were fix'd like Balder's on some shape of dread
Just visible in the shadow, lying low
Under the scented umbrage of the wood.
A Form, yet indistinct as the green sheen;
A Face, yet featureless; a head with eyes
Now faint as drops of dew, now strangely bright
As lustrous gems. Crouch'd on the under-grass,
It watch'd in serpent fashion every thrill
Of that bright bird; while all around, the air
Was mad and merry with the summer song
Of choirs that sat alive on leafy boughs,
Singing aloud!
Whereon they stood in the full flame of day,
The forest open'd, flashing green and gold,
Sparkling with quick and rapturous thrill of leaves
And rainbow-flush of flowers. Upon a bough
That reach'd its heavy-laden emerald arm
Into the summer light beyond the shade,
There clung, with panting breast and fluttering wings,
A trembling ringdove whose soft iris'd eyes
Were fix'd like Balder's on some shape of dread
Just visible in the shadow, lying low
Under the scented umbrage of the wood.
A Form, yet indistinct as the green sheen;
A Face, yet featureless; a head with eyes
Now faint as drops of dew, now strangely bright
As lustrous gems. Crouch'd on the under-grass,
It watch'd in serpent fashion every thrill
438
Was mad and merry with the summer song
Of choirs that sat alive on leafy boughs,
Singing aloud!
Then came a hush, wherein
Every faint pulse of life in those great woods
Was heard to beat; and then the fated bird
Cooing and quivering fluttered from the bough,
And 'mid the summer sheen beyond the shade,
With one last dying tremor of the wings,
Lay stricken still. . . . Among the darkening leaves
There was a stir, as creeping thro' the gloom,
Scarce visible, fixing eyes on that dead dove,
Forth from his lair the form began to crawl.
And Balder sicken'd, and his sense grew cold.
But with a queenly gesture Frea rose,
And pointed with her white imperious hand
Into the forest. Suddenly the shape
Was 'ware of that pale goddess and her son
More beauteous and insufferably bright.
A moment in the dimness of his lair
He paused, uprearing, as in act to spring,
A head half human, with a serpent's eyes;
Then, conscious of some presence that he feared,
All swift and silent, like a startled snake,
He faded back into the shadowy woods.
Every faint pulse of life in those great woods
Was heard to beat; and then the fated bird
Cooing and quivering fluttered from the bough,
And 'mid the summer sheen beyond the shade,
With one last dying tremor of the wings,
Lay stricken still. . . . Among the darkening leaves
There was a stir, as creeping thro' the gloom,
Scarce visible, fixing eyes on that dead dove,
Forth from his lair the form began to crawl.
And Balder sicken'd, and his sense grew cold.
But with a queenly gesture Frea rose,
And pointed with her white imperious hand
Into the forest. Suddenly the shape
Was 'ware of that pale goddess and her son
More beauteous and insufferably bright.
A moment in the dimness of his lair
He paused, uprearing, as in act to spring,
A head half human, with a serpent's eyes;
Then, conscious of some presence that he feared,
All swift and silent, like a startled snake,
He faded back into the shadowy woods.
III. Full Godhead.
O whither are they wending side by side
Thro' that green forest wide?
Down the deep dingles, amid ferns and flowers,
They wander hours and hours.
Bright-lock'd, with limbs of alabaster white,
Now gleaming in the light,
Now 'mong the dusky umbrage of the glade
Deep'ning to amber shade,
Their eyes on one another, whither away
Do these Immortals stray?
She murmurs, ‘Thou shalt mark all things that be;
The rivers and the sea,
The mountains that for ever crimson'd lie
Against the arctic sky,
The meteors that across the pale pole flit,
Strangely illuming it;
And thou shalt look on gods, thy kin and mine,
Since thou too art divine.’
Divine!—The forest glimmers where he goes
To crimson and to rose!
And wheresoe'er he comes no creature fears;
Each lingers, sees, and hears.
The boughs bend down to touch his yellow hair;
Around his white feet bare
The grass waves amorous; on his shoulder white
The singing birds alight,
Singing the sweeter; and in spaces clear
The brown-eyed dappled deer
With tremulous ear and tail around him stand,
Licking his outstretch'd hand
With warm rough tongues. He sings—all things around
Are husht to hear the sound!
He smiles—all things are smiling—wood and stream
With some new glory gleam,
Dark branches blossom, and the greensward nigh
Is sunnier than the sky!
Thro' that green forest wide?
Down the deep dingles, amid ferns and flowers,
They wander hours and hours.
Bright-lock'd, with limbs of alabaster white,
Now gleaming in the light,
Now 'mong the dusky umbrage of the glade
Deep'ning to amber shade,
Their eyes on one another, whither away
Do these Immortals stray?
She murmurs, ‘Thou shalt mark all things that be;
The rivers and the sea,
The mountains that for ever crimson'd lie
Against the arctic sky,
The meteors that across the pale pole flit,
Strangely illuming it;
And thou shalt look on gods, thy kin and mine,
Since thou too art divine.’
Divine!—The forest glimmers where he goes
To crimson and to rose!
And wheresoe'er he comes no creature fears;
Each lingers, sees, and hears.
The boughs bend down to touch his yellow hair;
Around his white feet bare
The grass waves amorous; on his shoulder white
The singing birds alight,
Singing the sweeter; and in spaces clear
The brown-eyed dappled deer
With tremulous ear and tail around him stand,
Licking his outstretch'd hand
With warm rough tongues. He sings—all things around
Are husht to hear the sound!
He smiles—all things are smiling—wood and stream
With some new glory gleam,
Dark branches blossom, and the greensward nigh
Is sunnier than the sky!
She murmurs, ‘They have cherish'd thee indeed,
In answer to thy need.
Ere thou wast born, into thy veins they grew,
Earth, sunlight, air, and dew,
The flower, the leaf, star's glimmer and bird's song;
And these have made thee strong
With other strength than ours; for ne'er till now,
On any immortal brow
Have I beheld such living splendour shine
As lies this hour on thine.
O sunbeam of the gods! O fairer far
Than ev'n Immortals are!
Divinest, gentlest, by the glad Earth given
To be a lamp in heaven!’
Divine!—The boughs shook down their shafts of green
And gleam'd to golden sheen;
The silvern snake stole from the dark treeroot
And twined round Balder's foot
With happy eyes; the tiger-moth and bee
About him hover'd free;
With yellow aureole his head was crown'd,
And his bright body around
There swam a robe of sunshine scented sweet,
Clothing him head to feet.
In answer to thy need.
Ere thou wast born, into thy veins they grew,
Earth, sunlight, air, and dew,
The flower, the leaf, star's glimmer and bird's song;
And these have made thee strong
With other strength than ours; for ne'er till now,
On any immortal brow
Have I beheld such living splendour shine
As lies this hour on thine.
O sunbeam of the gods! O fairer far
Than ev'n Immortals are!
Divinest, gentlest, by the glad Earth given
To be a lamp in heaven!’
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And gleam'd to golden sheen;
The silvern snake stole from the dark treeroot
And twined round Balder's foot
With happy eyes; the tiger-moth and bee
About him hover'd free;
With yellow aureole his head was crown'd,
And his bright body around
There swam a robe of sunshine scented sweet,
Clothing him head to feet.
She crieth, ‘Could the Father see thee there,
While on thy silken hair
The soft. light trembles like a shining hand!
Couldst thou before him stand,
Flowers round thy feet, a dove upon thy wrist,
Earth-blest and heaven-kist,
Would he not smile? would he not scorn full soon
The wearily woven rune
Which said that sorrow should be born when thou
Didst break with orient brow
The night-cloud of the Earth? O Son! my Son!
The crimson thread is spun,
The snow-white bud is blown, and now, behold!
The branch with fruit of gold
Hath grown full straight and swings i' the summer shine
Ineffably divine.’
While on thy silken hair
The soft. light trembles like a shining hand!
Couldst thou before him stand,
Flowers round thy feet, a dove upon thy wrist,
Earth-blest and heaven-kist,
Would he not smile? would he not scorn full soon
The wearily woven rune
Which said that sorrow should be born when thou
Didst break with orient brow
The night-cloud of the Earth? O Son! my Son!
The crimson thread is spun,
The snow-white bud is blown, and now, behold!
The branch with fruit of gold
Hath grown full straight and swings i' the summer shine
Ineffably divine.’
He questions, ‘Whither go we?’ She replies,
‘To that dim Land which lies
Ev'n as a cloud around the Father's feet!’
He smiles, his pulses beat
With brighter rapture. ‘Shall mine eyes then see
My Father?’ crieth he;
‘Where dwells he? and my brethren, where dwell they?’
She answereth, ‘Far away!’
Then, her face darken'd by some dreamy dread,
She moves with sadder tread.
‘To that dim Land which lies
Ev'n as a cloud around the Father's feet!’
He smiles, his pulses beat
With brighter rapture. ‘Shall mine eyes then see
My Father?’ crieth he;
‘Where dwells he? and my brethren, where dwell they?’
She answereth, ‘Far away!’
Then, her face darken'd by some dreamy dread,
She moves with sadder tread.
The shadows grow around them as they stray
From glade to glade; their way
Winds still 'mong flowers and leaves, where day and night,
Both sleepless and both bright,
One golden and one silvern, come and go.
Nor, when dark twilights sow
Their asphodels in the broad fields of blue,
And a cold summer dew
Gleams on the grass, and moths with fiery eyes
Flit, and the night-jar cries,
Doth Balder glimmer less divine. Ah, nay!
Dim things that know not day
Find him and love him; drinking his pure breath
The white owl hovereth;
About his footprints in the faint moon-ray
Wild lynxes leap and play;
The ringdoves on the branches brood; meek hares
Creep from their grassy lairs
To look upon him. So he goeth by
Of all things that descry
Beloved, and missed; around him like a veil
The moonbeams cluster pale,
And all the eyes of heaven with soft dews swim,
As they gaze down on him.
From glade to glade; their way
Winds still 'mong flowers and leaves, where day and night,
Both sleepless and both bright,
One golden and one silvern, come and go.
Nor, when dark twilights sow
Their asphodels in the broad fields of blue,
And a cold summer dew
Gleams on the grass, and moths with fiery eyes
Flit, and the night-jar cries,
Doth Balder glimmer less divine. Ah, nay!
Dim things that know not day
Find him and love him; drinking his pure breath
The white owl hovereth;
About his footprints in the faint moon-ray
Wild lynxes leap and play;
The ringdoves on the branches brood; meek hares
Creep from their grassy lairs
To look upon him. So he goeth by
Of all things that descry
Beloved, and missed; around him like a veil
The moonbeams cluster pale,
And all the eyes of heaven with soft dews swim,
As they gaze down on him.
But now they leave the mighty woods, and pass
Thro' valleys of deep grass,
Sprinkled with saxifrage and tormentil;
And many a mountain rill
Leaps by them, singing. Far away, on high,
They mark against the sky
Blue-shadow'd mountains crown'd with sparkling snow;
And thitherward they go.
Thro' valleys of deep grass,
Sprinkled with saxifrage and tormentil;
And many a mountain rill
Leaps by them, singing. Far away, on high,
They mark against the sky
Blue-shadow'd mountains crown'd with sparkling snow;
And thitherward they go.
Thro' lonely mountain valleys in whose breast
The white grouse makes its nest,
And where in circles wheel the goshawk keen
And fleet-wing'd peregrine;
Past torrents gashing the dark heathery height
With gleams of hoary white,
Their shining feet now fall, and where they fare
Faint rainbows fill the air
And span the streams; with sound of rippling rain
The cataracts leap amain,
The deer cry from the heights, and all around
Is full of summer sound.
The white grouse makes its nest,
And where in circles wheel the goshawk keen
And fleet-wing'd peregrine;
Past torrents gashing the dark heathery height
With gleams of hoary white,
Their shining feet now fall, and where they fare
Faint rainbows fill the air
440
The cataracts leap amain,
The deer cry from the heights, and all around
Is full of summer sound.
Silent, upon the topmost peak they come,
By precipices dumb
And melancholy rocks girt round; and so
They reach the realms of snow.
Far o'er their heads a hooded eagle wings
In ever-widening rings,
Till in the blinding glory of the day
A speck he fades away.
Then Balder's eyes gaze down. Stretch'd far beneath,
Forest and field and heath,
Netted with silvern threads of springs and streams,
Shine in the summer beams—
And valley after valley farther on
Fades dim into the sun.
By precipices dumb
And melancholy rocks girt round; and so
They reach the realms of snow.
Far o'er their heads a hooded eagle wings
In ever-widening rings,
Till in the blinding glory of the day
A speck he fades away.
Then Balder's eyes gaze down. Stretch'd far beneath,
Forest and field and heath,
Netted with silvern threads of springs and streams,
Shine in the summer beams—
And valley after valley farther on
Fades dim into the sun.
He crieth, ‘Far away methinks I mark
A mighty Forest dark,
Crown'd by a crimson mist; yonder it lies,
Stretching into the skies,
And farther than its darkness nought I see.’
And softly answereth she,
‘O Balder! 'tis the Ocean. Vast and strange,
It changeth without change,
Washing with weary waves for evermore
The dark Earth's silent shore.’
And Balder spake not, but he gazed again
Thro' the soft mist of rain
Which curtain'd that new wonder from his sight.
A mighty Forest dark,
Crown'd by a crimson mist; yonder it lies,
Stretching into the skies,
And farther than its darkness nought I see.’
And softly answereth she,
‘O Balder! 'tis the Ocean. Vast and strange,
It changeth without change,
Washing with weary waves for evermore
The dark Earth's silent shore.’
And Balder spake not, but he gazed again
Thro' the soft mist of rain
Which curtain'd that new wonder from his sight.
At last, when day and night
Have passed, they cross a purple cape and stand
On shores of golden sand,
And pausing silent, see beneath the sky
The mighty Ocean lie.
Have passed, they cross a purple cape and stand
On shores of golden sand,
And pausing silent, see beneath the sky
The mighty Ocean lie.
IV. The Man by the Ocean.
Calmly it lieth, limitless and deep,
In windless summer sleep,
And from its fringe, cream-white and set with shells,
A drowsy murmur swells,
While in its shallows, on its yellow sands,
Smiling, uplifting hands,
Moves Balder, beckoning with bright looks and words
The snow-white ocean-birds.
He smiles—the heavens smile answer! All the sea
Is glistering glassily.
Far out, blue-black amid the waters dim,
Leviathan doth swim,
Spouts fountain-wise, roars loud, then sinking slow,
Seeks the green depths below.
All silent. All things sleeping in the light,
And all most calmly bright!
In windless summer sleep,
And from its fringe, cream-white and set with shells,
A drowsy murmur swells,
While in its shallows, on its yellow sands,
Smiling, uplifting hands,
Moves Balder, beckoning with bright looks and words
The snow-white ocean-birds.
He smiles—the heavens smile answer! All the sea
Is glistering glassily.
Far out, blue-black amid the waters dim,
Leviathan doth swim,
Spouts fountain-wise, roars loud, then sinking slow,
Seeks the green depths below.
All silent. All things sleeping in the light,
And all most calmly bright!
He walks the weed-strewn strand, and where the waves
Creep into granite caves,
Green-paven, silver-fretted, roof'd with rose,
He like a sunbeam goes,
And ocean-creatures know him. The black seal
Out of the darkness steal
With gentle bleat, or with their lambs arise,
Their dark and dewy eyes
Uplooking into his; the cormorants green,
Which ranged in black rows preen
Their dusky plumage, at his footstep's sound
Turn snake-like necks around,
But rise not; o'er his head the white terns fly
With shrill unceasing cry;
And out of caverns come the rock-doves fleet,
Alighting at his feet!
Across the waters darts a shaft supreme
Of strange and heavenly gleam,
That doth his consecrated form enfold
Like to a robe of gold,—
While all the Ocean gladdeneth anew,
Stretch'd bright beneath the blue.
Creep into granite caves,
Green-paven, silver-fretted, roof'd with rose,
He like a sunbeam goes,
And ocean-creatures know him. The black seal
Out of the darkness steal
With gentle bleat, or with their lambs arise,
Their dark and dewy eyes
Uplooking into his; the cormorants green,
Which ranged in black rows preen
Their dusky plumage, at his footstep's sound
Turn snake-like necks around,
But rise not; o'er his head the white terns fly
With shrill unceasing cry;
And out of caverns come the rock-doves fleet,
Alighting at his feet!
Across the waters darts a shaft supreme
Of strange and heavenly gleam,
That doth his consecrated form enfold
Like to a robe of gold,—
While all the Ocean gladdeneth anew,
Stretch'd bright beneath the blue.
But what is this he findeth on his way,
Here, where the golden ray
Falleth on sands 'neath crimson crags that rise
Dark 'gainst the great blue skies?
What is this shape that, breathing soft and deep,
Lies on its side asleep,
Here on the strand where drifted sea-weeds cling?
Is it some occan thing.
Crept from the emerald darkness of the brine
To bask i' the summer shine?
Is it some gentle monster whose green home
Lies far below the foam?
Softly he sleeps, while on his closëd eyes
The summer sunlight lies;
Around his face, that seemeth wildly fair,
Hang tawny locks of hair,
On dusky shoulders falling loosely down;
And lo, his cheeks are brown
With kisses of the sun, and round his limbs
A light like amber swims
Divinely clear; and by his side is thrown
A spear of walrus-bone,
A bear-skin blanket, and a seal-hide thong;
So sleeps he, brown and strong;
And nought that lieth upon land or sea
Seemeth more strange than he,
Like some wild birth of ocean wash'd to land,
And cast upon the sand
With many a drifting weed and waif beside.
Here, where the golden ray
Falleth on sands 'neath crimson crags that rise
Dark 'gainst the great blue skies?
What is this shape that, breathing soft and deep,
Lies on its side asleep,
Here on the strand where drifted sea-weeds cling?
Is it some occan thing.
441
To bask i' the summer shine?
Is it some gentle monster whose green home
Lies far below the foam?
Softly he sleeps, while on his closëd eyes
The summer sunlight lies;
Around his face, that seemeth wildly fair,
Hang tawny locks of hair,
On dusky shoulders falling loosely down;
And lo, his cheeks are brown
With kisses of the sun, and round his limbs
A light like amber swims
Divinely clear; and by his side is thrown
A spear of walrus-bone,
A bear-skin blanket, and a seal-hide thong;
So sleeps he, brown and strong;
And nought that lieth upon land or sea
Seemeth more strange than he,
Like some wild birth of ocean wash'd to land,
And cast upon the sand
With many a drifting weed and waif beside.
‘O Mother!’ Balder cried,
Suddenly falling on his bended knee,
‘What shape is this I see?
It sleeps—it breathes—it lives!’ And Frea said,
Scarce turning her proud head,
‘It is a mortal man not worth thy care!
Ev'n as the birds of the air
They are born, they gladden, and they come and go.’
But Balder, stooping low,
Passing soft fingers o'er the sleeper's side,
And smiling sweetly, cried,
‘Awake, awake!’ and gently from the strand
He raised one strong brown hand.
‘Hush!’ said the pallid goddess, sighing deep,
‘Lest he awake from sleep,
And touch him not, lest from his mortal breath
Thou know'st the taint of Death.’
‘Death!’ Balder echoed with a quick sharp pain;
And Frea spake again,
‘Nought on this nether sphere which foster'd thee,
But drinks mortality;
Fade not the leaf, the lily, and the rose?
Yea, and the oak-tree knows
Only its season;—in their seasons all
Are fashion'd, fade, and fall—
Birds on the boughs, and beasts within the brake,
Yea, ev'n the hawk and snake,
Are born to perish; and this creature shares
An earthly lot like theirs.’
She paused; for suddenly in the bright sun-ray
God Balder's cheeks grew gray
And sunken—his eyes dim;—a moment's space
Across his troubled face
Pass'd darkness. Frea quail'd. A moment more,
And that strange shade pass'd o'er,
And Balder's looks again grew beautiful.
Suddenly falling on his bended knee,
‘What shape is this I see?
It sleeps—it breathes—it lives!’ And Frea said,
Scarce turning her proud head,
‘It is a mortal man not worth thy care!
Ev'n as the birds of the air
They are born, they gladden, and they come and go.’
But Balder, stooping low,
Passing soft fingers o'er the sleeper's side,
And smiling sweetly, cried,
‘Awake, awake!’ and gently from the strand
He raised one strong brown hand.
‘Hush!’ said the pallid goddess, sighing deep,
‘Lest he awake from sleep,
And touch him not, lest from his mortal breath
Thou know'st the taint of Death.’
‘Death!’ Balder echoed with a quick sharp pain;
And Frea spake again,
‘Nought on this nether sphere which foster'd thee,
But drinks mortality;
Fade not the leaf, the lily, and the rose?
Yea, and the oak-tree knows
Only its season;—in their seasons all
Are fashion'd, fade, and fall—
Birds on the boughs, and beasts within the brake,
Yea, ev'n the hawk and snake,
Are born to perish; and this creature shares
An earthly lot like theirs.’
She paused; for suddenly in the bright sun-ray
God Balder's cheeks grew gray
And sunken—his eyes dim;—a moment's space
Across his troubled face
Pass'd darkness. Frea quail'd. A moment more,
And that strange shade pass'd o'er,
And Balder's looks again grew beautiful.
O'erhead, as white as wool,
The calm clouds melted in the burning blue;
Beneath, the great seas grew
Stiller and calmer, while the immortal one
Stood dreaming in the sun,
On that dark sleeper fixing eyes grown bright
With heavenly love and light.
The calm clouds melted in the burning blue;
Beneath, the great seas grew
Stiller and calmer, while the immortal one
Stood dreaming in the sun,
On that dark sleeper fixing eyes grown bright
With heavenly love and light.
‘O come!’ the goddess cried, and took his hand.
Along the shining strand
They pass'd, but evermore god Balder's face
Turn'd backward to the place
Where he had left the weary wight asleep.
Along the shining strand
They pass'd, but evermore god Balder's face
Turn'd backward to the place
Where he had left the weary wight asleep.
Then, as beside the Deep
They wander'd slowly onward, Frea told
Strange tales and legends old
Of living men, and how they came to be,
And how they bend the knee
To gods they know not, till beneath the sun
They die, and all is done.
They wander'd slowly onward, Frea told
Strange tales and legends old
Of living men, and how they came to be,
And how they bend the knee
To gods they know not, till beneath the sun
They die, and all is done.
And ever her finger pointed as she spoke
To wreaths of light-blue smoke
Upcurling heavenward o'er the sleeping seas
From fishing villages.
Love in his heart and wonder on his brow,
Bright Balder hearken'd now
In silence. ‘Far beyond those lonely woods
And these sea-solitudes,
Peopling the dark Earth, living forms ilke these
Gather as thick as bees:—
Shapen like gods, yet perishable; born
For ever night and morn,
And night and morn for ever vanishing.
An old dark doom doth cling
Around them and all kindred things that bloom
Out of the green world's womb.
Heed them not thou! To gods they are no more
Than singing birds that soar
A little flight, and fall. Tho' for a space,
Rear'd in a lowly place,
Thou hast known, as mortals know, Earth's shade and shine,
Another lot is thine!—
To sit among the gods, on heights supreme,
Beyond Man's guess or dream!’
To wreaths of light-blue smoke
Upcurling heavenward o'er the sleeping seas
From fishing villages.
Love in his heart and wonder on his brow,
Bright Balder hearken'd now
In silence. ‘Far beyond those lonely woods
And these sea-solitudes,
Peopling the dark Earth, living forms ilke these
Gather as thick as bees:—
442
For ever night and morn,
And night and morn for ever vanishing.
An old dark doom doth cling
Around them and all kindred things that bloom
Out of the green world's womb.
Heed them not thou! To gods they are no more
Than singing birds that soar
A little flight, and fall. Tho' for a space,
Rear'd in a lowly place,
Thou hast known, as mortals know, Earth's shade and shine,
Another lot is thine!—
To sit among the gods, on heights supreme,
Beyond Man's guess or dream!’
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |