Part 14 (1/2)
May the G.o.ds or the high G.o.ds' masters 'gainst the tale of the righteous strive, And the deeds to follow after, and all their deeds increase, Till the uttermost field is foughten, and Baldur riseth in peace!
”Cry out, O waste, before him! O rocks of the wilderness, cry!
For tomorn shalt thou see the glory, and the man not made to die!
Cry out, O upper heavens! O clouds beneath the lift!
For the golden King shall be riding high-headed midst the drift: The mountain waits and the fire; there waiteth the heart of the wise Till the earthly toil is accomplished, and again shall the fire arise; And none shall be nigh in the ending and none by his heart shall be laid, Save the world that he cherished and quickened, and the Day that he wakened and made.”
So died the voice of Gripir from amidst the sunny close, And the sound of hastening eagles from the mountain's feet arose, But the hall was silent a little, for still stood Sigmund's son, And he heard the words and remembered, and knew them one by one.
Then he turned on the ancient Gripir with eyes that knew no guile And smiled on the wise of King-folk as the first of men might smile On the G.o.d that hath fas.h.i.+oned him happy; and he spake: ”Hast thou spoken and known How there standeth a child before thee and a stripling scarcely grown?
Or hast thou told of the Volsungs, and the gathered heart of these, And their still unquenched desire for garnering fame's increase?
E'en so do I hearken thy words: for I wot how they deem it long Till a man from their seed be arisen to deal with the c.u.mber and wrong.
Bid me therefore to sit by thy side, for behold I wend on my way, And the gates swing-to behind me, and each day of mine is a day With deeds in the eve and the morning, nor deeds shall the noontide lack; To the right and the left none calleth, and no voice crieth aback.”
”Come, kin of the G.o.ds,” said Gripir, ”come up and sit by my side, That we twain may be glad as the fearless, and they that have nothing to hide: I have wrought out my will and abide it, and I sit ungrieved and alone, I look upon men and I help not; to me are the deeds long done As those of today and tomorrow: for these and for those am I glad; But the G.o.ds and men are the framers, and the days of my life I have had.”
Then Sigurd came unto Gripir, and he kissed the wise-one's face, And they sat in the high-seat together, the child and the elder of days; And they drank of the wine of King-folk, and were joyful each of each, And spake for a while of matters that are meet for King-folk's speech; The deeds of men that have been and Kin of the Kings of the earth; And Gripir told of the outlands, and the mid-world's billowy girth, And tales of the upper heaven were mingled with his talk, And the halls where the Sea-Queen's kindred o'er the gem-strewn pavement walk, And the innermost parts of the earth, where they lie, the green and the blue, And the red and the glittering gem-stones that of old the Dwarf-kind knew.
Long Sigurd sat and marvelled at the mouth that might not lie, And the eyes no G.o.d had blinded, and the lone heart raised on high, Then he rose from the gleaming high-seat, and the rings of battle rang And the sheathed Wrath was hearkening and a song of war it sang, But Sigurd spake unto Gripir: ”Long and lovely are thy days, And thy years fulfilled of wisdom, and thy feet on the unhid ways, And the guileless heart of the great that knoweth not anger nor pain: So once hath a man been fas.h.i.+oned and shall not be again.
But for me hath been foaled the war-horse, the grey steed swift as the cloud, And for me were the edges smithied, and the Wrath cries out aloud; And a voice hath called from the darkness, and I ride to the Glittering Heath; To smite on the door of Destruction, and waken the warder of Death.”
So they kissed, the wise and the wise, and the child from the elder turned; And again in the glimmering house-ways the golden Sigurd burned; He stood outside in the sunlight, and tarried never a deal, But leapt on the cloudy Greyfell with the clank of gold and steel, And he rode through the sinking day to the walls of the kingly stead, And came to Regin's dwelling when the wind was fallen dead, And the great sun just departing: then blood-red grew the west, And the fowl flew home from the sea-mead, and all things sank to rest.
_Sigurd rideth to the Glittering Heath._
Again on the morrow morning doth Sigurd the Volsung ride, And Regin, the Master of Masters, is faring by his side, And they leave the dwelling of kings and ride the summer land, Until at the eve of the day the hills are on either hand: Then they wend up higher and higher, and over the heaths they fare Till the moon s.h.i.+nes broad on the midnight, and they sleep 'neath the heavens bare; And they waken and look behind them, and lo, the dawning of day And the little land of the Helper and its valleys far away; But the mountains rise before them, a wall exceeding great.
Then spake the Master of Masters: ”We have come to the garth and the gate: There is youth and rest behind thee and many a thing to do, There is many a fond desire, and each day born anew; And the land of the Volsungs to conquer, and many a people's praise: And for me there is rest it maybe, and the peaceful end of days.
We have come to the garth and the gate; to the hall-door now shall we win, Shall we go to look on the high-seat and see what sitteth therein?”
”Yea, and what else?” said Sigurd, ”was thy tale but mockeries, And have I been drifted hither on a wind of empty lies?”
”It was sooth, it was sooth,” said Regin, ”and more might I have told Had I heart and s.p.a.ce to remember the deeds of the days of old.”
And he hung down his head as he spake it, and was silent a little s.p.a.ce; And when it was lifted again there was fear in the Dwarf-king's face.
And he said: ”Thou knowest my thought, and wise-hearted art thou grown: It were well if thine eyes were blinder, and we each were faring alone, And I with my eld and my wisdom, and thou with thy youth and thy might; Yet whiles I dream I have wrought thee, a beam of the morning bright, A fatherless motherless glory, to work out my desire; Then high my hope ariseth, and my heart is all afire For the world I behold from afar, and the day that yet shall be; Then I wake and all things I remember and a youth of the Kings I see-- --The child of the Wood-abider, the seed of a conquered King, The sword that the G.o.ds have fas.h.i.+oned, the fate that men shall sing:-- Ah might the world run backward to the days of the Dwarfs of old, When I hewed out the pillars of crystal, and smoothed the walls of gold!”
Nought answered the Son of Sigmund; nay he heard him nought at all, Save as though the wind were speaking in the bights of the mountain-hall: But he leapt aback of Greyfell, and the glorious sun rose up, And the heavens glowed above him like the bowl of Baldur's cup, And a golden man was he waxen; as the heart of the sun he seemed, While over the feet of the mountains like blood the new light streamed; Then Sigurd cried to Greyfell and swift for the pa.s.s he rode, And Regin followed after as a man bowed down by a load.
Day-long they fared through the mountains, and that highway's fas.h.i.+oner Forsooth was a fearful craftsman, and his hands the waters were, And the heaped-up ice was his mattock, and the fire-blast was his man, And never a whit he heeded though his walls were waste and wan, And the guest-halls of that wayside great heaps of the ashes spent But, each as a man alone, through the sun-bright day they went, And they rode till the moon rose upward, and the stars were small and fair, Then they slept on the long-slaked ashes beneath the heavens bare; And the cold dawn came and they wakened, and the King of the Dwarf-kind seemed As a thing of that wan land fas.h.i.+oned; but Sigurd glowed and gleamed Amid the shadowless twilight by Greyfell's cloudy flank, As a little s.p.a.ce they abided while the latest star-world shrank; On the backward road looked Regin and heard how Sigurd drew The girths of Greyfell's saddle, and the voice of his sword he knew, And he feared to look on the Volsung, as thus he fell to speak:
”I have seen the Dwarf-folk mighty, I have seen the G.o.d-folk weak; And now, though our might be minished, yet have we gifts to give.
When men desire and conquer, most sweet is their life to live; When men are young and lovely there is many a thing to do.
And sweet is their fond desire and the dawn that springs anew.”
”This gift,” said the Son of Sigmund, ”the Norns shall give me yet, And no blossom slain by the suns.h.i.+ne while the leaves with dew are wet.”
Then Regin turned and beheld him: ”Thou shalt deem it hard and strange, When the hand hath encompa.s.sed it all, and yet thy life must change.
Ah, long were the lives of men-folk, if betwixt the G.o.ds and them Were mighty warders watching mid the earth's and the heaven's hem!
Is there any man so mighty he would cast this gift away,-- The heart's desire accomplished, and life so long a day, That the dawn should be forgotten ere the even was begun?”