 | Poems: By Menella Bute Smedley |  |
The Priest's Speech continued.
“Within the Temple I watched alone,
I lay before the war-god's throne;
Night and day I fasted there,
Night and day I lay in prayer,
But still the god, tremendous, cold,
Did stare upon me as of old;
Never a sound and never a sign
Answered all those prayers of mine,
Till, as the sixth and latest night
Gaped slowly for the sinking light,
And one by one the shadows stole
Like muttered spells across my soul,
I rose and paced the dreary stone,
Before the terrors of the throne,
And shuddered while the cell I trod,
Alone with the giant and speechless god!
I lay before the war-god's throne;
Night and day I fasted there,
Night and day I lay in prayer,
303
Did stare upon me as of old;
Never a sound and never a sign
Answered all those prayers of mine,
Till, as the sixth and latest night
Gaped slowly for the sinking light,
And one by one the shadows stole
Like muttered spells across my soul,
I rose and paced the dreary stone,
Before the terrors of the throne,
And shuddered while the cell I trod,
Alone with the giant and speechless god!
“Was it a cloud from the changing sky
That cheated my bewildered eye?
Not a voice nor a breath was heard,
But it seemed to me that Odin stirred!
My heart grew cold and shrank away,
I thought he was coming to seize his prey,
Down I fell and covered my face,
Though night was darkening through the place,
For I dared not turn nor lift my eye
Lest I should see the god and die.
There as I lay in the night alone,
Hiding my face on the altar stone,
A great Voice fell, as thunder falls,
And clove the cloud and shook the walls,
And the war-god uttered this word of fear,—
Give ear, O people! O King, give ear!”
That cheated my bewildered eye?
Not a voice nor a breath was heard,
But it seemed to me that Odin stirred!
My heart grew cold and shrank away,
I thought he was coming to seize his prey,
Down I fell and covered my face,
Though night was darkening through the place,
For I dared not turn nor lift my eye
Lest I should see the god and die.
There as I lay in the night alone,
304
A great Voice fell, as thunder falls,
And clove the cloud and shook the walls,
And the war-god uttered this word of fear,—
Give ear, O people! O King, give ear!”
| Poems: By Menella Bute Smedley | |