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FRITHIOF’S SAGA 192
Allfather’s silent thoughts, which never know a change.
What hath been, what shall be, doth Vala’s deep song
tell,—
A song at once the lullaby, the dirge of Time.
Therewith in unison, Heimskringla’s tale is told,
And thence may each man hear his own heart’s history;
And Vala asks of thee,—’Canst understand thine own?’
"Atonement seekest thou.—Oh! know’st thou what
it is?
Gaze in mine eyes, oh! Frithiof, gaze, and turn not pale;
Atonement bears on earth no other name than Death;
All time is but a measure of eternity;
All life,—an emanation from Allfather’s throne;
Atonement,—thither purified to hie thee home.
The lofty gods themselves are fallen. Ragnarok
Is their atoning-day appointed; day of blood
On Vigrid’s hundred leagues of plain; there must they fall,
But never unavenged; since Evil then must die
Eternally, and fallen Good arise on high,
From flames of earth to loftier being purified.
’Tis true, the rayless wreaths of pale-grown stars
Shall fall from heaven above, and Earth in ocean sink;
But, joyously, another new-born Earth shall raise,
From ocean forth, its fairer, flow’r-adorned head;
And wandering stars renewed, with sweet, benignant
beam,
Above the new creation take their silent course.
Once more shall Balder, then, upon the grassy hills,
Rule God’s regenerate and purified mankind.
The Rune-writ golden tablets, lost so long ago
In early dawn of time, shall then again be found
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