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XXIII
FRITHIOF GOETH INTO BANISHMENT
On deck, by light
Of summer night,
Sat Frithiof grieving;
Like ocean heaving,
His bosom sad
With awe and dread;
Thick smoke still climbing
From the temple’s flaming.
"To ValhalP fly
Through lofty sky,
Ye smoke-wreaths, seeking
Balder, bespeaking
His rage, just meed
To me decreed;
Dread tidings giving
To echoing heaven
Of the temple bound
Razed to the ground;
Of the image famed,
Which, falling, flamed,
And, charred away,
Like fire-wood lay.
Of the grove telling
(Religion’s dwelling,
Where never sword
In strife was heard)
In ruins buried
By flames unwearied.
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