- Project Runeberg -  Poems by Tegnér: The children of the Lord's supper and Frithiof's saga /
184

(1914) Author: Esaias Tegnér Translator: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, William Lewery Blackley
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j FRITHIOF’S SAGA 220

But thee, great spirit, shining bright and clear,—
Thee, and the vengeance sent by thee, I fear.

"Here rests my father: if a hero sleeps;

Thither whence none returneth he is gone;
Mead-quaffing in the starry tent, he keeps
Glad revel, joyous in his armor’s tone;
Guest of the gods! glance downwards through the deep,
Thine offspring calls thee, Thorsten, Viking’s son;
With spells of deep enchantment come not 1;
How shall I Balder please? is all my cry.

"Giveth the grave no answer? For a sword,
Angantyr, long-departed, spake not he ?
Tirfing was good, yet little worth such word,

I ask for more, no sword contenteth me;
Battle can weapons plentiful afford.

Bring thou, O father, peace from heaven with thee;
Be thou the pleader of my sorrowing prayer;
No noble heart can Balder’s anger bear.

"No sound, my father? hark! the ocean sings,

In its sweet voice, oh! speak a word to me,—
The storm-wind flies, hang thee upon its wings,

And whisper to me as its swift gusts flee;
The western sky hangs full of golden rings,
Let one of thy dear counsel herald be.
What! For thy son’s despair no sign, no breath?
How poor, my father, is the sleep of death!"

The day sank down, with evening breezes singing
To man their lullaby so soft and mild;

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