Fridthjof's Saga

XIX.

“Rich, white, soft, clear is Idun’s breast;
How it heaves beneath her silken vest!
A silk I know, whose heave discloses
Light-fairies two with budding roses.
XX.

And blue are Freyja’s eyes to see,
Blue as heav’n’s cloudless canopy! —
But I know eyes to whose bright beams
The light blue spring-day darksome seems.

XXI.

“The bards praise Gerd’s fair cheeks too high,
Fresh snows which playful north-lights dye! —
I cheeks have seen whose day lights clear
Two dawnings blushing in one sphere.

XXII.

“A heart like Nanna’s own I’ve found
As tender, — why not to renown’d?
Ah ! happy Balder; ilk breast swelleth
To share the death thy skald o’ertelleth.

XXIII.

“Yes! could my death like Balder’s be, —
A faithful maid lamenting me —
A maid like Nanna, tender, true, —
How glad I’d stay with Hel the blue!”

XXIV.

But the king’s child — all glad her love —
Sat murmuring hero-songs, and wove
Th’ adventures that her chief had seen.
And billows blue, and groves of green;

XXV.

Slow start from out the wool’s snow-fields
Round, gold-embroider’d, shining shields,
And battle’s lances flying red,
And mail-coats stiff with silver thread;

XXVI.

But day by day her hero still
Grows Fridthjof-like, weave how she will, —
And as his form ‘mid th’ arm’d host rushes,
Though deep, yet joyful are her blushes!

XXVII.

And Fridthjof, where his wanderings be,
Carves I. and F. i’ the tall birch tree;
The runes right gladly grow united,
Their young hearts like by one flame lighted.

XXVIII.

Stands Day on heav’n’s arch-throne so fair! —
World’s mother with her dark-hued hair,
While stars tread soft, all hush’d ‘mong men —
Each dreams but of the other then!

XXX.

“Thou earth! — each spring through all they bow’rs
Thy green locks jeweling thick with flow’rs —
Thy choicest give! Fair weaving them,
My Fridthjof shall the garland gem.”

XXXI.

“Thou sea! in whose deep gloomy hall
Shine thousand pearls, hear love’s loud call! —
Thy fairest give me, to bedeck
That whiter pearl — my Ing’borg’s neck!”

XXXII.

“Oh crown of Odin’s royal throne,
Eye of the world, bright golden sun! —
Wert thou but mine, should Fridthjof wield
Thy shining disc, his shining shield.”

XXXIII.

“Oh lamp of great Allfather’s dome,
Thou moon, whose beams so pale-clear roam! —
Wert thou but mine, should Ing’borg wear
Thy crescent orb among her hair.”

XXXIV.
Then Hilding spoke: “From this love-play
Turn, foster-son, thy mind away;
Had wisdom rul’d, thou ne’er hadst sought her —
‘The maid,’ fate cries, ‘is Bele’s daughter!’

XXXV.

“To Odin, in his star-lit sky.
Ascends her titled ancestry;
But Thorstein’s son art thou; give way!
For ‘like thrives best with like,; they say.”

XXXVI.

But Fridthjof smiling said: Down fly
To death’s dark vale, my ancestry;
Yon forest’s king late slew I; pride
Of high birth heir’d I with his hide.

XXXVII.

“The freeborn man yields not; for still
His arm wins worlds where’er it will;
Fortune can mend as well as mar;
Hope’s oranments right kingly are!

XXXVIII.

“What is high birth but force! yes! Thor,
Its sire, in Thrudvang’s fort gives law;
Not birth, but worth, he weighs above; —
The sword pleads strongly for its love!

XXXIX.

“Yes! I will fight for my young bride,
Though e’en the Thund’ring god defied.
Rest thee, my lily, glad at heart;
Woe him whose rash hand would us part!”