THE SCALD'S TALE, continued.
XIV.
The Valkyries maids of mystery,
Who weave the web of destiny,
Were busy on that fatal day,
To chase tormenting pain away.
The wounded warrior was their care,
They softened many a deadly blow,
The generous maids were ready there
To cherish hope, to check despair,
And stay the power of weeping woe—
Were there to say who should succeed,
And who should fall, and who should bleed,
And who should fight, and who should fly,
And who should slay, and who should die.
XV.
And as they sped more fleet than air
They saw that lovely parting pair.
And aye they heaved a heavy sigh,
And, if such thing could ever be,
The tear stood trembling in their eye
While they read the scroll of destiny.
And as they passed,—that fatal throng,
They trilled a chorus loud and long.
