The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan :: :: University of Virginia Library

All round the deerfold on the shrouded height
The starlight glimmer'd clear;
Therein sat Death, wrapt round with vapours white
Touching the dove-eyed deer.

And thither Balder silent-footed flew,
But found the phantom not;
The rain-wash'd moon had risen cold and blue
Above that lonely spot.

Then as he stood and listen'd, gazing round
In the pale silvern glow,
He heard a wailing and a weeping sound
From the wild huts below.

He mark'd the sudden flashing of the lights,
He heard cry answering cry—
And lo! he saw upon the silent heights
A shadowy form pass by.

Wan was the face, the eyeballs pale and wild,
The robes like rain wind-blown,
And as it fled it clasp'd a naked child
Unto its cold breast-bone.

And Balder clutch'd its robe with fingers weak
To stay it as it flew—
A breath of ice blew chill upon his cheek,
Blinding his eyes of blue.

'Twas Death! 'twas gone!—All night the shepherds sped,
Searching the hills in fear;
At dawn they found their lost one lying dead
Up by the lone black mere;

And lo! they saw the fatal finger-mark,
Which reacheth young and old,
Seal'd, livid still, upon its eyelids dark
And round its nipples cold.

Then Balder moan'd aloud and smote his breast,
‘O drinker of sweet breath,
Curst be thy cruel lips! I shall not rest
Until I clasp thee, Death!’

He track'd the footprints in the morning gray
From rocky haunt to haunt.
Far up the heights a wolf had crost Death's way;
It lay there, lean and gaunt.

He reach'd the highest snows and found them strewn
With bleaching bones of deer. . . .
Night came again,—he listen'd 'neath the moon
Shining most cold and clear.

Beneath him stretch'd vast valleys green and fair,
Still in the twilight shine,
With great waste tarns and cataracts hung in air,
And woods of fir and pine;

And on the tarns lay dim red dreams of day
The midnight sun cast there,—
Sunlight and moonlight blending in one rav
Of mother-o'-pearl most fair.

He wander'd down thro' woods that flinged the snows,
Down cliffs with ivy crown'd,
He passed by lonely tarns whence duskly rose
Great cranes, and hover'd round.

He paused upon a crimson crag, and lo!
Deep down at the crag's foot,
The Shape he sought, in shadow, far below,
With folded wings, sat mute!

Ev'n as a vulture of the east it seem'd
Brooding on something dead;
Dark was the form on which its cold eyes gleam'd,
And still and heavy as lead.

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Then Balder swung himself from tree to tree,
And reach'd the fatal place! . . .
The phantom fled as silent wild things flee,
But a white human face

Gleam'd from the ground; and Balder's glory shone
On a wild cowherd's hair!
Too late—his cheeks were chill—his breath was gone—
His bosom torn and bare.

The Shape unseen had cast him o'er the steep,
Down, down, the abysses dim,—
Then, as an eagle followeth a sheep,
Had flutter'd after him!

His bearskin dress was bloody; in his grip
He clutch'd a cowherd's horn;
His eyes were glazed, and on his stainëd lip
Death's kisses lay forlorn.

But Balder touch'd him and his face grew fair,
Shining beneath the skies,
Yea, Balder crost his hands, and smooth'd his hair,
And closed his piteous eyes. . . .

Not resting yet, the bright god wander'd soon
Down by the torrent's track;
And lo! a sudden glory hid the moon,
And dawn rose at his back.

II.

Dawn purple on the peaks, and pouring in floods
Into the valleys fair,
Encrimsoning the lakes and streams and woods,
Illuming heaven and air.

And every creature gladden'd, and the Earth
Turn'd on her side and woke:
There came sweet music; sunny gleams of mirth
Across the landscape broke.

And when a thousand eyes of happy things
Had open'd all around,
And when each form that blooms, each form that sings,
Saw Balder glory-crown'd,

Standing like marble bathed in liquid flame,
Perfect of face and limb,
Infinite voices syllabled his name,
And Earth smiled up at him!

All shapes that knew him (and all shapes that be
Knew Balder's face that hour)
Grew glorified—the torrent and the tree,
The white cloud and the flower.

The meres flash'd golden mirrors for his face;
The forests saw and heard;
The cataracts brighten'd; in its secret place
The sunless runlet stirred.

A light of green grass ran before his feet,
His brow was bright with dew,
Where'er he trod there sprang a flower full sweet,
Rose, crimson, yellow, or blue.

But Balder's face was pale, altho' his frame
Its natal splendour wore;
Altho' the green Earth gladden'd as he came,
God Balder's soul was sore.

‘O happy Earth! O happy beams of day!
O gentle things of breath!
Blest were ye, if some hand divine might slay
The slayer, even Death!’

He spake, and he was answer'd. By his side
A crimson river ran,
Out of the cloven mountains spreading wide
It water'd vales for man.

Amid its shallows flowers and sedge did twine,
But in the midst 'twas deep,
And on its sides fed flocks of goats and kine
O'er meadows soft as sleep.

Suddenly, while upon its marge he stood,
His heart grew cold as clay,—
For lo! the phantom! sailing down the flood,
Dim in the dawn of day! . . .

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'Mid drifted foxglove-bells and leaves of green
Uptorn and floating light,
There came, with face upturn'd, now hid, now seen,
A maiden dark as night—

Her raven hair was loosen'd, her soft breath
Had fled and left no stir,
Her eyes were open, looking up at Death,
Who drifted down with her.

Beside her, tangled 'mid the foxglove-bells,
A shepherd's crook was cast,
While softly on the waters silvern swells
Her form was floating past.

And lo! with eyes of feverish fatal light
Fix'd on her face in dream,
Death clung unto her 'mid the eddies bright
Upon the shining stream.

And Balder wail'd; and wafted down that way,
Death saw his shape and knew,—
Then, like a falcon startled from its prey,
Rose, vanishing from view!

III. The Fight of Ships.

Now Balder came across the great sea-shore,
And saw far out upon the windless waves
A fight of water-dragons fierce as fire,
Wingëd and wild and wrought about with gold.
And dragon unto dragon clash'd and clung,
And each shriek'd loud, and teeth in teeth were set,
Until the sea was crimson'd, and one sank
In its own blood. So like to living things
They seem'd, but ships they were within whose wombs
Throbbed many savage hearts. And suddenly,
Amid that clangour of sharp steel and shriek
Of living voices, 'mid the thick o' the fight,
When in the stainëd waters all around
Men to the brain were cloven as they swam,
Balder saw dimly, hovering on wings,
Ev'n as the kestrel hovers poised and still
With glittering eyes searching the nether ground,
The Shape he sought. As the bright dragons rush'd
This way and that with rapid sweep of oars,
And as the tumult passed from wave to wave,
It follow'd, as the falcon followeth
Some fearful quarry creeping on the ground.
And when the sunset came, and the great din
Was hush'd, and torn apart from one another
The dragons darken'd on a fiery sea,
The Shape, illumined with a crimson gleam,
Still linger'd o'er them very quietly,
Scenting the slain that drifted like to weeds
On the red waters, shoreward.

Then aloud
Cried Balder, ‘Father!’ uttering from his heart
A bitter moan, and as he spake he saw,
All congregating on the brazen walls
Of sunset, with their wild eyes looking down,
Feeding upon the carnage of the fight,
The gods his kin; and like to evening clouds,
Crimson and golden in the sunset flame,
They would perchance have seem'd to human eyes,
But his perceived them clearly and discern'd
The rapture in their faces as they gazed.
Yet ne'ertheless he cried, ‘Come down, ye gods,
And help me, that upon this fatal thing
I lay my hand!’ They laugh'd reply, and lo!
He saw their banners raised i' the wind, their brands
Flashing and moving.

‘Father!’

No reply;
But quiet as a curtain fell the night,
Solemn, without a star.

Then by the sea
Silent walk'd Balder, and all sounds were still
Beyond him on the bosom of the deep.
And where he went along the moonless sands
He made a brightness such as ocean shells
Keep in their iris'd ears; and the soft sea
Came singing round his silvern feet; and doves

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Came out of caves and lit upon his hands.
Then Balder thought, ‘He answer'd, and has sent
The darkness as a token!’ and ev'n then
He blest his father.

. . . What is this that flames,
Lurid and awful, out upon the sea?
What dusky radiance, tho' the world is dark,
Shoots like a comet yonder upon the sky?
Seized in the fangs of fire, a dragon-ship
Consumes and shrieks, and as it burns illumes
The water under and the thunderous rack
Blackening above; and Balder as he stands
Pallid upon a headland, on his face
Catches the red reflection of the ray;
Ocean and sky are crimson'd, and he sees
Black shapes that hither and thither, waving arms,
Dart 'midst the flame on the consuming decks
And plunge with shrill scream down into the sea.

What care to call on the Immortals now?
He looks, one hand prest hard in agony
Upon his aching heart, and he discerns,
Brooding above that brightness, poised i' the air,
Down gazing, half illumed, half lost in light,
The Phantom! As the ship consumes and fades,
And as the last cry rises on the air,
The Shape sinks lower with no waft of wing.
And when in dumb and passionate despair,
Balder looks northward once again, he sees
The cloud-rack parted, the cold north on fire,
And all the gods, with cruel cheeks aflame
And bright eyes glittering like cluster'd stars,
Thronging against the blacken'd bars of Heaven.

IV. Ydun.

Then Balder lifted up his voice and cried,
‘Curst be this thing and you who sent it hither,
Tho' ye be gods, immortal, and my kin;
For now I loathe you, deeming lovelier far
The black hawk, and the fox upon the ground,
Who slay sweet lives not knowing what they do;
But ye, O gods, are wise, yet Death's sick scent
Is pleasant to your nostrils.’ Loudly afar
A laugh of thunder answer'd, and the shapes
Still congregated in the glistening north
Flash'd like the pale aurora one white gleam
Of earthward-looking eyes, and in the midst
A hoary Face like to a moonlit cloud,
Silent, and staring down with orbs of stone.
And on this last did Balder gaze, and lo!
He shiver'd cold, his cheek divine was blanch'd,
And with no further word he turn'd away.

. . . So walk'd he by the Ocean, till that gleam
Far out upon the crimson waters died;
Till night grew deeper and all sounds were still'd.

And all that night his human heart was turn'd
Against the gods his kin, against the god
His father; for he thought, ‘He made this thing,
He sent it hither to the happy Earth;
And when it slays they gladden in the halls
Of Asgard, and no pity fills their hearts
For gentle stricken men.’ Long hours he paced
The cold sands of the still black sea; and where
His foot fell moonlight lay and live seasnails
Crept glimmering with pink horns; and close to shore
He saw the legions of the herring flash,
Swift, phosphorescent, on the surface shining
Like bright sheet-lightning as they came and went.
At intervals, from the abyss beyond,
Came the deep roar of whales.

Betimes he stood
Silent, alone, upon a promontory
And now about him like white rain there fell
The splendour of the moonlight. All around
The calm sea rolled upon the rocks or drew

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Dark surges from the caverns, issuing thence
Troubled and churn'd to boiling pools of foam.
Erect he stood, uplifting his white hands;
For round him on the slippery weed-hung reefs,
Outcreeping from the blackness of the sea,
In legions came the flocks of gentle seals
And gray sea lions with their lionesses.
And o'er the rocks they clomb till all the place
Was blacken'd, and the rest upon the sea,
Their liquid eyeballs in the moonlight burning,
Swam round and round with necks outstretch'd to gaze;
And those beneath him touch'd his shining feet,
And when he raised his hand and blest them all,
Uplifted heads like happy flocks of sheep
Bleating their joy!

Ev'n then he heard a voice
Cry ‘Balder!’ thrice, and turning he beheld
Standing above him on the promontory
A spirit he remember'd; for her hair
Swept downward like the silvern willow's leaves,
And on her mystic raiment blue as heaven
There glimmer'd dewy drops like heavenly stars.
And as he turn'd unto her he perceived
Her deathlike pallor, and he straightway knew
He look'd on Ydun, who had given to him
Those mystic apples which immortal forms
For ever feed on evermore renew'd.

And Ydun said, ‘O Balder, I could hear
Thy lone cry yonder in the silent realms
Where, gathering golden asphodels in meads
Of starlight under the dark Tree, I stray'd;
And all my heart was troubled for thy sake,
My brother, and I came across the worlds
To seek thee, bringing in my veilëd breast
More fruits to heal thee and to make thee strong
Despite the gods who love thee not, thy kin;
For I who bring them love thee, knowing well
There stands no shape in the celestial halls
So beautiful as thou!’

And as she spake
She drew the apples forth and proffer'd them
To Balder's lips; but on those lips there lay
An ashen tinge as of mortality.
And taking not the gift he answer'd low,
‘O Ydun, let me give thy gift to men,
That they may eat and live!’

But Ydun said,
While on his cheek he felt her breath come cold
As frosty moonlight,—‘Name them not, but eat—
Eat thou, and live. O Balder, men were born
To gather earthly fruit a little space,
And then, grown old with sudden lapse of years,
To wither up and die; and fruit like this
Could never light on any human lip
The flame-like breath of immortality.
Flesh are they, and must fall; spirits are we,
And fed with life diviner, we endure.’

Then Balder said, ‘Dost thou not weep for them?
Poor mortals with their shadows on the ground,
Yet kin to thee and me! He made them fair
As we are, tho' they sicken and are slain;
Yea, by a god accurst that haunts the world
Their hearts are set asunder, and their teeth
Devour each other. Lo! the beautiful Earth
Is desolate of children, strewn with dead,
Sick with a ceaseless moan of stricken things
For ever coming and for ever going,—
Like wild waves darkly driven on a sea
Eternally distress'd.’

Coldly replied
The goddess, ‘Take no heed for things of clay,—
For 'twere as well to weep for stricken birds,
Or flowers that in their season fade and fall,
Or beasts that mortals slay for food or cast
Upon thy Father's shrines for sacrifice,

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As mourn for that dark dust beneath thy feet
Which thou call'st men. O Balder, take no heed—
Be wise—such pity ill beseems a god!’

But Balder wrung his hands and wail'd aloud
In a sad human voice, ‘Not pity those?
Hath a bird fallen in my sight and fail'd
To win some meed of tears? Doth a beast die,
I would not wind in my immortal arms,
And kiss into a new and lovelier life?
And on the dead leaves shed i' the weary woods
Do I not strew my tears divine, like dew?
O Ydun, listen, for thou know'st me not.
The taint of clay is on me and I lack
The large cold marble heart befitting gods.
I drank strange mercy from the dark Earth's breast
When she my foster-mother suckled me
Close to her leafy heart; I am not wise,
Ay me, I am not wise, if not to love
The happy forms below me, and the faces
That love my voice—and gladden in my smile,
Be wisdom; I am of them; I have learn'd
The pathos of the setting sun, the awe
Of moonlight and of starlight; nay, I dream
That shape which sets its icy hand on all
Will find me in my season like the rest.
They are my brethren, wanderers in the world,
Yet fatherless and outcast like myself,
And exiled from their home!’

But Ydun said,
‘That shape which sets its icy hand on all
Need never trouble thee, if thou wilt eat,
Eat as I bid, and live;—nay, Death himself,
Tame as a hound some little child may lead,
Hath fed from out my hand and from my fruits
Drank immortality; and lo, he walks
Immortal among mortals, on Earth's ways
Shedding the sad leaves of humanity.
For this is written, they must die; and those
Who die in battle or with bloody hands
The gods redeem and snatch to deathless days
Of terror in Valhalla; but the rest,
Weak maiden-hearted men and women pale,
And children, dying bloodless, find below
A nameless and an everlasting sleep.’

‘O Ydun,’ Balder cried, ‘I have search'd the Earth,
And have not found him, tho' my spirit pants
To look into his face and question him,
That Death of whom you speak, that fantasy,
Immortal, and a god; but evermore
His form eludes me in the light and dark,
And evermore beneath my feet I find
Only some gentle shape that he hath slain.’

Then Ydun smiled as pallid starlight smiles
On marble, and she answer'd, ‘Eat, then eat!
And by the gods of Asgard I will swear
To lead thee to him and to read a rune
Which whisper'd in his ear shall make him meek
And weak as any lamb to do thy will;’
And as she spake she held the apples forth
And proffer'd them again to Balder's lips.

Then hungry for her promise Balder ate,
And in his mouth the mingled red and white
Melted as snow, and suddenly he seem'd
Grown into perfect glory like the moon
Springing all silvern from a summer cloud.