Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/166

He spoke; but Hoder answered him, and said,—
"Hermod the nimble, dost thou still pursue
The unhappy with reproach, even in the grave?
For this I died, and fled beneath the gloom,
Not daily to endure abhorring gods,
Nor with a hateful presence cumber heaven;
And canst thou not, even here, pass pitying by?
No less than Balder have I lost the light
Of heaven, and communion with my kin;
I too had once a wife, and once a child,
And substance, and a golden house in heaven:
But all I left of my own act, and fled
Below; and dost thou hate me even here?
Balder upbraids me not, nor hates at all,
Though he has cause, have any cause; but he,
When that with downcast looks I hither came,
Stretched forth his hand, and with benignant voice,
Welcome, he said, if there be welcome here,
Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me!
And not to offend thee, Hermod, nor to force
My hated converse on thee, came I up
From the deep gloom, where I will now return;
But earnestly I longed to hover near,
Not too far off, when that thou camest by;
To feel the presence of a brother god,
And hear the passage of a horse of heaven,
For the last time—for here thou com'st no more."
He spake, and turned to go to the inner gloom.
But Hermod stayed him with mild words, and said,—
"Thou doest well to chide me, Hoder blind!
Truly thou say'st, the planning guilty mind
Was Lok's: the unwitting hand alone was thine.
But gods are like the sons of men in this:

When they have woe, they blame the nearest cause.