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j FRITHIOF’S SAGA 221
221
The sunset, rosy-cheeked, its glories flinging
In purple radiance, girt the heavenly shield;
Round azure heights and verdant valleys clinging,
Valhalla’s semblance all the circle filled:
When sudden o’er the western billows came
A lovely vision, weft of gold and flame.
O’er Balder’s bounds the gentle Hagring hovers,
(For so we call it, though in Valhall bright
More sweetly named), and floating downwards, covers
Green hill and dale in coronet of light,
Spreading around, as far as eye discovers,
Unfancied splendor, wondrous to the sight;
And as at length it down to earth descends,
A temple, on the temple’s site, it stands.
Vision of Breidablick! Towards heaven rearing
Their height, the walls with silver seem to vie;
The mighty pillars of dark steel appearing;
A single jewel forms the altar high;
Forth hangs the dome, as if by spirits bearing,
Stariy and beauteous, like the winter sky,
And there, in azure garb and golden-crowned,
The gods of Valhall’ seem to sit enthroned.
Within the portal stands each noble Nome,
Together bearing Fate’s Rune-written shield;
Three roses gathered in a single urn,
Solemn, but wondrous beautiful and mild.
Urd towards the ruined shrine doth silent turn,
Skuld to the vision of the new revealed;
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