The Sea-King A metrical romance, in six cantos. With notes, historical and illustrative. By J. Stanyan Bigg |
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| I. | CANTO I. The Legend of Otlauga. |
| II. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| III. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| I. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| III. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| V. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| VI. |
 | The Sea-King |  |
CANTO I. The Legend of Otlauga.
“------ Her heart was full
Of passions which had found no natural scope;
Feelings which there had grown, but ripened not.”
Curse of Kehama.
Of passions which had found no natural scope;
Feelings which there had grown, but ripened not.”
Curse of Kehama.
“Dreamers are together in the spirit, although in the body apart.”
Christopher North, Vol. 3.
3
I.
The huntsman long had left the chase,And the strong winds blew their shrillest blast;
And o'er the moon's translucent face
The pale clouds flew, and flitted fast.
And far away in the mountains,
Those hills of eternal snows,
The clear crystalline fountains
Were silenced in repose.
For an icy hand had chained their course,
And made them bend to its peerless force.
4
II.
And ever as the moon shone fairOn the barren mountain-height,
And the night-star beamed
On the ice that gleamed
With a glancing shivering light;
While the wind whistled past full drearily,
The traveller paused to see a sight,
As well in the tempest as see he might,
What well I ween he wished not to see.
III.
Those foot-prints in that world of snows,So fair and firmly set;
Who once has seen, for ever knows
And never,—never will forget.
In the midst of the print a mystic sign,
Whose meaning no man may divine,
In the form of a harp is shown:
As though it were wrought by an Artist's hand,
And firmly fixed in that dreary land
On a block of marble-stone.
5
IV.
And that harp it is saidWas dyed a blood red
Wherever its impress was seen;
Like a boding sign,
Or a bloody design,
Enwrought on the field
Of the tragic shield
All silvery-bright, and sheen.
V.
Those deep, mysterious, foot-prints oftHave been found in regions drear;
In vales below,—on hills aloft,
In regions far and near.
And oft in the depth of the dreariest nights,
Far, far away on Norwegian heights,
When the moon has beamed,
And the stars have gleamed
On the lakes in the vales below,
Those prints have been seen,
In the meteor-sheen,
Imbedded deeply in the snow.
6
VI.
But whence they come, or where they go,No man may tell, no man may know.
They have been seen in the glouting glen,
Untrodden by the foot of men.
They have been found in the isles of the sea,
As bleak and as barren, as barren may be.
'Tis said they have passed those chambers dread
Where the Genii are confined;
And 'tis said they have passed the charmed ring
Where the Duerga and Jotun and Genii sing
With the Demons and Juhles and the souls of the dead,
To the whistling of the wind.
VII.
'Tis said those foot-prints might be found,Through all the land of wonders;
Where Fenris in his cavern bound
Howls to the ceaseless thunders:
Where Utgarda—Loke in his dismal cave,
More dreary far than the yawning grave
In darkness sits enchained,
And those angry snakes by hatred fed,
7
For ever and for ever drip,
Their poison on his blanched lip,
And tear his tortured head.
VIII.
Impressed in the snow,Of the world below,
Where the Black Palace stands
In its poisonous lands,
And looks towards the gates of the terrible North;
Those steps might be seen,
In the lightning sheen
When the fire from Muspeil issues forth.
IX.
Through Muspeils-heim at the end of the world,Where the dreaded Surtur reigns;
And the banner of fire forever unfurled,
Is waved in unquenchable flames.
Through all that land those steps have gone,
Weary, wayworn, and alone.
8
X.
In Niflheim dread, where Hela dwellsAnd binds the dead, in their cursed cells,
In her nine worlds of despotic sway,
Shrouded in darkness, and far from the day,
Those mysterious steps have gone,
Weary, wayworn, and alone.
XI.
Borne on the blastThe snow falls fast
Round the warrior's dwelling at night,
And he hears on the wind
In the regions behind,—
Far away on the mountain-height,—
Sweet sounds descending,
With the wild winds blending
Till the dawning of the light.
The Wanderer treads the fleecy ground
And well the warrior knows,
Those mystic footsteps may be found
Implanted in the snows.
9
XII.
But now in the halls of Spangareid,The lamps are trimmed, and the fires are bright;
But sad indeed, is the traveller's meed
Who wanders in so drear a night,
For the wind that comes from the mountain's height
Is cutting-cold and chill,
And the eyes are dazed with the icy light
As the snow-flakes gleam on the weary sight
From valley, glen, and hill.
XIII.
And in the hall sat the lady fair,—Otlauga the far famed shepherdess;
With beaming eye and silken hair
Ywimpled all in loveliness.
The renown of her beauty had travelled far,
'Twas spoken of in peace and war;
And warriors strong, and warriors bold
And men of high degree;
Had flocked from regions all untold,
Her wondrous charms to see.
10
For she looked on them all with a cheerless eye.
XIV.
Strange tales were told of that lady bright,And stranger of her pedigree;
'Tis said she would go in the stormiest night
And sail about on the terrible sea:
And lash the fierce waves when they mounted on high,
To storm the gates of the ebon sky.
XV.
Whence that lady came no man could tell,But the old and the young remember well,
That direful night when the ocean was riven,
And tempest-tossed by the winds of heaven,
When they heard far away on the distant sea
Sounds as sweet as sounds could be,
Soft and shrill and very wild,
Like the warblings of a child.
11
XVI.
Then responses would ariseThat seemed to come from the distant skies,
Now they rose still mounting higher
Like the wildest notes of the sweetest lyre,
Till the loud tempest's hoarsest roar,
Drove the sweet sounds far away from the shore.
But when a calm would intervene,
Those trancing sounds were heard between,
Still darkness was round, and nothing was seen.
XVII.
But when the cheering morning light,Came dancing o'er the mountain's height,
Full many were astir to reach
The rocky borders of the beach.
And laying there upon the ground,
A beauteous harp was quickly found,
And all who saw both young and old,
Declared it was of the purest gold.
12
XVIII.
But ere they touched the harp, the windBlew a blast from across the sea,
Then strains that thrilled through every mind
Made sweetest melody.
And a voice within, 'twas faint and low,
Was heard to whisper “mother ho!”
XIX.
The hearers started back aghast,In silence deep, a moment passed;
When from the harp a child
Whose face was fair and whose eyes were wild,
From the side towards the North
Came issuing forth,
And sweetly on them smiled.
XX.
She said she had come from a far countree,Beneath the waves of the deep green sea,
Where beings bright, and beings fair,
Knew nought of trouble, of grief, or of care,
13
And perfect amity.
“An ye throw that harp to the surging wave
And let it descend to my mother's grave,—
With you I will dwell, with you I will stay”
That lovely maiden 'gan to say,
“But if not I will leave you” she said,
“And then in that harp I will sail away
Far from the light of the upper day
To the land of the peaceful dead.”
XXI.
And oh she was so sweet a child,And she spake in accents soft and mild,
And what she said was all so wild
That their hearts were melted quite;
And they cast the harp to the surging deep,
Beneath whose waves the dead men sleep,
And it vanished from their sight.
And the child they took to their dwelling place,
And they said her features bore the trace
Of lineage long and high;
14
From the spirit's home,—
Far beneath the deep green sea,
Where all are happy as spirits can be,
Or the land that is hid by the sky.
XXII.
And her fame spread far o'er land and flood,And the maiden grew to womanhood
In beauty and in charms;—
Some thought it strange that one so mild,
Should love to hear those legends wild
Of war and its alarms,—
But praised was he whoe'er could bring
Some tidings of that dread Sea-King
Who set the world in arms.
XXIII.
From the time when she came o'er the distant sea,—From the time of her earliest infancy,
She had heard the dreaded Ragnar's name,
Till she joyed in his far resounding fame.
15
To tales that curdled the hearer's blood;
Of achievements high in regions drear,
And battles won, by land and flood;—
Till her eye would beam
With a flashing light,
Like the lightning's gleam
In the darkest night,
And the blood to her temples would come and would go
Like a crimson tide in a land of snow.
XXIV.
Till at the naming of that nameThe maiden glowed like a living flame;
And her features have been seen to flush,
With the crimson tints of the rose's blush.—
They thought it strange she was thus moved,
Some hinted that the lady loved.
It could not be the hearers said,
For she ne'er had seen that man of dread.
They little wot I ween that she
Could love her own soul's phantasye.
16
XXV.
But others said they could not tell,It might be that that lady,—fair,
Saw shapes and forms, and knew them well;—
To other eyes invisible,
Above, beneath, and in the air.
XXVI.
'Twas whispered when that lady high,Floated away on the surging sea;
And sang her songs so merrilye
To the winds that whistled by:—
That she held secret converse deep
With spirits wild, and demons dread
Who never rest, and never sleep,
But who in companies oft have pass'd
With the spirits of air, and the souls of the dead,
On the wings of the midnight blast.
XXVII.
I cannot tell how this may be,For truth is often a mysterye.—
17
And it is known that lady fair,
Loved to tread the mountain bare
Beneath the stars of the chilly night;—
When from above, and from below
The wind came whistling through the air,
When all around were hills of snow,
And rugged rocks, and caverns drear,
No trace of human dwelling near,—
But forests bleak, and mountains high
Peering away to the frozen sky.
XXVIII.
Why wandereth forth that lovely maidBeneath the night's mysterious shade?
Why loveth she the boiling sea,
And the wind that moaneth piteouslye?
An though she be a spirit's child,
Spirits love not ceaseless war,
And endless din, and nightly jar,
And tumult fierce, and discord wild,—
18
As pure as is the cloudless sky,
That lady modest meek and mild?
XXIX.
She loveth well the cheerless night,That is the time for musing deep;
When the moon and the stars make a glimmering light
And mortals sink in tranced sleep.—
That is the time when in the soul,
Phantoms enter one by one;
And thoughts mysterious darkly roll,
That vanish when the night is gone,
That is the time for musings high,
When the night stars twinkle in the sky.
XXX.
She loveth well the stormy sea,And the wind that whistleth shrill;
For these are aye in sympathy
With her wild ungoverned will.
She wanders forth because her breast
19
She wanders forth—she cannot rest
That lovely spirit's child.
XXXI.
By night, by day a vision dreadHaunteth that lady fair,
It is not spirit of the dead
Nor demon dire with wings outspread
Nor spirit of the air.
'Tis far more fierce, and far more fell,
More bloody and more terrible,
Than fiend of air, or fiend of hell.
XXXII.
The day dreams of that lady bright,Are pictures in the mind,
Of what the horror-haunted night
In haste has left behind.
That lady knoweth not I ween,
What those mysterious visions mean.
20
XXXIII.
There appeareth in that lady's dreamsA dreary lake or sea.
Not fed by brooks or purling streams
That murmur to the slumbering beams
Of the moon light piteouslye.
That lady seeth,—(ghastly sight!)
A sea of gore and boiling blood,
Enveloped in the clouds of night;
Where floateth slow a vessel dark,
On the surface of that sanguine flood;—
No sail is seen about that bark,
But shivering shrouds and masts full high,
Are traced like net work in the sky.
XXXIV.
Some mystic power invisible,By force of word, or force of spell
Moveth that ship of fear and dread:
For it glideth ever on—on—on—
Though mortal man there is not one
To guide it over the slumbering flood;
21
Slept their long sleep
In that vessel deep
That saileth away on that sea of blood.—
That sleep that will last for ever and aye
Till the dead shall awake, at the judgment day.
XXXV.
Silence dwelt about that ship,Save when the whooping owl would dip
Her white wing in that bloody sea;
Then starting,—cry, and away—away
To those caverns drear shut out from the day,
Or nestle in the storm-rent tree.
Or save when the moaning midnight wind
Came from the icy hills behind,
And swept like a pestilence over the wave,
That was silent and still as the warrior's grave.
XXXVI.
No human footstep e'er might tread,The black deck of that vessel dread.
22
Human form might not be found.
There rested on that vessel proud,
A misty and a sleeping cloud.
And well that lovely lady knew
That sleeping cloud was but a shroud
To hide a being from her view.
She knew it enshrouded a shadowy form,
More dreadful than Niord who governs the storm.
And her fancy would picture full strongly I ween,
The form of the man whom she never had seen,
Whose fame made the halls of the stormy North ring,
Ragnar the fierce, the wild Sea-King.
XXXVII.
And when that vessel dread had pass'dSounds came floating on the blast;
Wild and of the mournful kind,
And they came and they went with the whistling wind.
Through a cloud far over head
The moon her pale beams sweetly shed,
But sickening with the ghastly sight
She shrouded herself in the mists of the night.
23
XXXVIII.
She had stayed long enough for that lady to see(On the borders of that sea of blood,
Whose waves were all slumbering treacherously,—)
Mighty rocks in confusion hurled,
All naked and bare like the ribs of the world.
And on these rocks a figure stood
And spake to the being who sailed on the flood.
“I have found where she dwelleth that child of the sea
Thou shalt see her I ween right speedilye.”
And he who spake seemed an aged man,
And his eyes were cold and his visage was wan,
And his white hair sailed on the sweeping wind,
And seemed like a silver stream floating behind.
XXXIX.
The night was cloudy those rocks were bare,And the moon seemed frozen in the air.
A harp which ever the wild wind fanned
That old man held in his withered hand.
The strains were melting sad and shrill,
And they wandered far o'er rock and hill.
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Those sounds that floated far and near.
The wolf no longer howled in the night,
The owlet paused in her wheeling flight
To list to the wind as it whistled by;
For it bore on its nervous wings,
Thrilling sound and melting sigh
From that harp's mysterious strings.
XL.
'Tis strange how such a thing could be,—But that lady felt a sympathye
With that harp and its plaintive strain,
Is it memory fair that recalleth the past
Portraying the pleasures that would not last?
What is it that giveth that lady pain?
See the pearly tear-drops dim her eye,
She shivers and heaveth a heavy sigh.
What is it that aileth that lady fair
Is it the wind or the cold night air,
Or is it a vision or is it a spell?
She felt its power but she could not tell.
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XLI.
She found it hard herself to restrain,When she heard that music wild;
And the days of her infancy came again,
And she felt herself a child.
While to those strains the caverns ring
The spirit within her compelled her to sing.
And oh she sang a song of dread!
'Twas the same that is sung by the souls of the dead.
It was a song too dire to name,
And she shivered and trembled throughout her frame.
Who taught her that song? I would I could tell
But she sang it full wildly and sang it full well.
XLII.
Maid! dost know the silent moonSwathed in clouds, will vanish soon?
Hearest thou not that step so slow
Trampling in the frozen snow?
And seest thou not that mystic sign
Whose meaning no man may divine?
Hearest thou not a ghastly groan?
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That aged man with his eyes of stone
So firmly fixed and set on thee?
Oh! that aged man is a man of dread,
And his eyes are as cold as the eyes of the dead!
XLIII.
Why doth that lady start and quiver?Why should she gasp? and why should she shiver?
What seeth that lady fair and bright,
Is it a phantom of the night
That draweth her breath and blasteth her sight?
Her spirit wandereth here and there,
Her spirit wandereth every-where.
Backward, forward, through various times,
Up and down in various climes.
XLIV.
She is a mysterious maid I wis,She knoweth this full well;
But whence she came or who she is
The maiden cannot tell!
27
Swifter than the northern blast,
To the scenes of her early infancye.
Oh! that is a wondrous place I ween,—
She cannot tell what those may be
Who wander about with garments sheen
Beneath the waves of the boundless sea.
'Tis strange the maiden cannot tell,
She knew them once I ween right well.
XLV.
Swift as a wandering beam of lightHer trembling spirit taketh flight
And hideth itself in futurity.
Oh that is a land both dim and drear,—
A region dark of dread and fear:
And it seemeth an isle in that bloody sea.
But the maid is recalled from her reverie,—
Though the night is dark she still may see
A figure moving warilye
Towards the rock on which she stands.
And that is the man if man he be
28
Wherever that aged man may go
A bloody harp is impressed in the snow!
XLVI.
That aged man is drawing near,Lovely lady have a care!
He is a man of dread and fear,—
Look not at his eye so cold
Touch thou not his hand so old;—
Keep thy distance, and beware!
But the lady awoke with a shriek and a start,
For an icy hand was upon her heart.—
XLVII.
Otlauga often dreamt this dream,And still she saw that ghastly sight,
That sanguine and mysterious stream,
Enveloped by the clouds of night.
And that vessel dread went o'er the wave,
Like a spectre gliding about a grave.
And still she saw that aged man;—
29
With his cheerless eye and visage wan
Beside the silent sea of blood.
But whether it was a dream,—or whether
It was not sight and a dream together,
Or whether a vision, or whether a spell,
The Gods may know, but I cannot tell.
XLVIII.
But they who wander in the night,Have sometimes seen a figure white
Descend the chilly mountain's height
And enter a gloomy glen:
Impervious to the cheering light,
Unknown to the sons of men.
Now some have said this figure fair,
Was the spirit of her who slept below;—
This figure that lighter than fluid air,
Skimmed over the frozen snow.
And though the maid might know it not,
She was one in a scene that should not be forgot!
30
XLIX.
Her maidens once to her chamber came,To see their lady at night;
And there by the light of the flickering flame,
They saw a vision bright.
It is not their lady that layeth there,
It cannot be,—oh no!—
Their lady like the rose is fair,
But that figure is whiter than snow!—
Motionless, passionless, pale as death,
That being layeth there alone,
Ye list in vain fair maids,—for breath
Cometh not from a marble-stone.
L.
That night in the darkening vale below,Where nought but rushes and reeds might grow,
The traveller saw by the light of the moon
That swimmeth in ether and vanisheth soon,—
On the snow's fair breast,
Foot-prints impressed,
The one was deep but the other was slight,
31
Had sought protection of another,
Perhaps a father, perhaps a brother;—
But he shivered and started as well he might
For in both he saw the bloody sign,
Whose meaning no man may divine!
LI.
But in her room when the morn came round,The maidens fair, their mistress found.
Her eye was dim, her lip was white,
As though she had passed a weary night.
“Thou hast a wild unearthly look,
Fair lady say, what aileth thee?”
Her lips were close as a sealed book,
She sighed,—but not a word spake she.
Till the fire in her dark eye 'gan to gleam,
And then she said she had dreamt a dream.
| The Sea-King | |