The Seaside and the Fireside/Tegnér's Death
Tegnér's Death.
I heard a voice, that cried,“ Balder the BeautifulIs dead, is dead!”And through the misty airPassed like the mournful cryOf sunward sailing cranes.
I saw the pallid corpseOf the dead sunBorne through the Northern sky.Blasts from NiffelheimLifted the sheeted mistsAround him as he passed.
And the voice for ever cried,“ Balder the BeautifulIs dead, is dead!”And died awayThrough the dreary night,In accents of despair.
Balder the Beautiful,God of the summer sun,Fairest of all the Gods!Light from his forehead beamed,Runes were upon his tongue,As on the warrior's sword.
All things in earth and airBound were by magic spellNever to do him harm;Even the plants and stones;All save the mistletoe,The sacred mistletoe!
Hœder, the blind old God,Whose feet are shod with silence,Pierced through that gentle breastWith his sharp spear, by fraudMade of the mistletoe,The accursed mistletoe!
They laid him in his ship,With horse and harness,As on a funeral pyre.Odin placedA ring upon his finger,And whispered in his ear.
They launched the burning ship!It floated far awayOver the misty sea,Till like the moon it seemed,Sinking beneath the waves.Balder returned no more!
So perish the old Gods!But out of the sea of TimeRises a new land of song,Fairer than the old.Over its meadows greenWalk the young bards and sing.
Build it again,O ye bards,Fairer than before!Ye fathers of the new race,Feed upon morning dew,Sing the new Song of Love!
The law of force is dead!The law of love prevails!Thor, the thunderer,Shall rule the earth no more,No more, with threats,Challenge the meek Christ.
Sing no more,O ye bards of the North,Of Vikings and of Jarls!Of the days of EldPreserve the freedom only,Not the deeds of blood!