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j FRITHIOF’S SAGA 132
.With mortal fondness the forgotten gods.
Then if some mariner with flapping sail
(For there no storms engage) drift past our isle
By rosy sunset, and with joyous gaze
Look from the ruddy ocean to the strand,
Then on the temple’s threshold shall he see
Thee, a new Freya (her, methinks, they name
In their tongue Aphrodite)—shall behold
Thy golden locks light floating in the breeze;
Thine eyes more radiant than the southern sky.
And growing round thee, coming by degrees,
A temple-dwelling little Alfen-race
With flushing cheeks, as if the South had set
All its fair roses in the northern snows.
Ah! Ingeborg, how fair, how near doth stand
Each earthly joy to two fond loving hearts!
If boldly grasped whene’er its time be come,
It follows willingly, and builds for them
A Vingolf even here on earth below.
Come, hasten! even now each word we speak
Stealeth away an instant from our joy.
All is prepared, and, eager for her flight,
Ellida flaps her darkling eagle-wings,
And the fresh breathing north wind calls us forth
Forever from this superstitious shore.
How? Lingerest thou?
ingeborg
Alas! I cannot follow thee.
frithiof
Not follow me?
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