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j FRITHIOF’S SAGA 191
For whatsoever happens here hath happened, too,
More wondrously above; and so the life of men
Is but an image slight of Valhall; heaven’s light
Reflected down on Saga’s rune-engraven shield;
And every heart of man its Balder hath. Thou ’st known
a time
When peace within thy bosom dwelt, and gladsome sped
Thy life, in heavenly calm, like dream of sweet-voiced
bird,
When winds of summer night rock gently to and fro
His greenwood nest, and bend the heads of slumbering
flowers,
Then Balder still was dwelling in thy stainless soul,
Thou Asen-born, thou wandering type of Valhall pure!
For children still doth Balder live, and Hela yields
Her booty back as oft as child of man is born.
But in each heart of man, with Balder, groweth up
His brother, Hoder, blind, the child of Night; for 111,
Like young of bears, is sightless born, and darkness is
His covering, while Balder clothes himself in light.
But ever-busy Loke tempts unceasingly,
Misleads the blind one’s murderous hand, and guides the
spear
Against the heart of Balder, Valhall’s best beloved.
Then Hate awakeneth; for prey Might springeth up;
Like hungry wolf, o’er hill and dale, the greedy sword
Doth prowl, and dragons swim upon the bloody waves;
And shadow-like, of power bereft, doth Piety
By pallid Hela sit, as dead, amongst the dead;
And low in ashes Balder’s holy temple lies;
And thus the life of gods above foreshadoweth
The life of men below, and both together are
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