As Thor sat silent, and the fight was o’er,
Slow from the giants’ blood a smoke arose,
And white and thick the vapour spread itself!
Trembling with guilt and fear Lok veil’d his face.
At length the smoke, dissolving by degrees,
Develop’d a gigantic female form:
Silent she stood; her eyelids were half-closed;
Her visage pale as death: through all the caves
Glimmer’d a lurid flame. Upon the brow
Of Lok glared visibly the stamp of crime.
The mountain dame long contemplated Thor
With look serene, though stern: the god remain’d
Mournful and mute. At length a sigh exhaled
Of deep compassion from her lab’ring breast:
Grave was her aspect; in each feature reign’d
The calm of peace: peculiar tenderness,
Mix’d with severity, restrain’d her wrath.
“Sad tidings have I to announce to thee,
O Thor!” thus she began; “for thou hast soil’d
Thy honour: Lok hath taught thee how to sin.
But for a short time longer shalt thou bear
Thy Miölner: sore it grieves me to announce
Thy fall, O Thor! for thou art good and brave,
And dear to me for aye will be thy name.
But the whole Ocean cannot wash away
The rust that stains thy shield; then listen now
Calmly to what I shall unfold, and learn
From me thy future fate! Though all creation
To ashes burn, yet that which is eternal
No flame consumes; ’tis only the foul mask
That bursts, and falls to dust.
I sing to thee
A song of heavy import, “the World’s End.”
Into Valhalla’s realm shall find its way
Corruption leagued with pain: with splendour false
Dazzled your eyes become, like those of man:
This deeply moves the pious Balder’s heart;
He warns, but warns in vain; unheeded still
Remains his counsel sage: the heavenly Frigga
Now to a mere terrestrial Hertha sinks:
In Freya’s look voluptuousness alone
Predominates and burns: ferocious Thor
Becomes, and Odin weak: then Lok shall weave
His woof of treach’ry and deceit: all things
Forebode the fall of the degen’rate world:
Frivolity with vice reigns close allied;
Then bursts thy roof of pearl, O Breidablik!
Lok in the dark the fatal arrow guides;
Drown’d in fraternal blood affection lies:
The corpse of Balder decks the pyre: the race
Of Alfer disappear from Valaskialf:
Peace is compell’d to abdicate her reign,
While war and pestilence rage uncontroll’d.
Now every day still more and more corrupt
Becomes the race of Askur; no respect
Is paid to oaths: i’ th’ hand of brutal force
The glaive tyrannic crushes and dethrones
Truth, piety, and justice: idols grim
Of stone, or wood, or brass, alone are worshipp’d,
Where whilom burnt a pure and holy flame.
Now men are sacrificed at Odin’s shrine
Like cattle: many a gentle maiden drown’d
In Hertha’s honour in the mystic grove.
Where then shall innocence protection find?
The probity so famed of th’ olden time
Hath vanish’d from the earth: but Lok! thy joy
Shall be of short duration; thou shall fall
A victim to thy own insidious arts;
Thou first didst cruelty to th’ Asar teach,
And cruel shall thy expiation be.
In a deep subterranean cave shall thou
Be captive held, and rage and foam in vain:
The Asar in their wrath shall seize and fasten
Thy body to a rock: one peak shall bear
Thy shoulder, one thy loins, and one thy knees.
No one for thee the smallest pity feels:
Thy sons each other shall, like wolves, devour,
And their intestines bind their guilty sire.
Yet true and faithful shall remain thy spouse,
And she alone; and though the serpents huge
Hang venom-breathing o’er thee, pair by pair,
Dropping their foam on thee but half alive,
Yet Sigyn’s gentle nature shall not fail;
Assiduous she will stretch a vessel forth
To shelter from the dropping venom him,
Who once was dearly lov’d: the vase, when fill’d,
She carries out; then on thy fester’d wounds
And lips the poison falls; writhing with pain
Thou tremblest; at the shock earth trembles too.
Then Odin hurls his javelin wide around,
Slaying the wretched denizens of earth
To gorge himself with plunder: blood doth cleave
E’en to the robe of peace: where then repose
Can find the weary wand’rer? lo! Guldveige
Advances, goddess like! her shrine of gold
Is worshipp’d fervently o’er hill and vale.
She can the wildest wolf with fetters bind,
Yet she capricious to the worst of men
Accords her favours, and is prodigal
Of treasure to the vile and base alone.
Then is good counsel in Valhalla scarce,
For Mimer hath long since the sacred grove
Abandon’d in despair, and in a well
Dwells like a reptile. Odin, true, his eye
Has given in pledge to him, that he may see
More clear athwart the murkiness, but vain
The gift; more dim doth Mimer’s sight become.
The vaults wide gaping of the rocks present
The aspect of a coffin! Nastrond’s gulf
Opes its tremendous jaws, where serpents foul
Hiss and exhale their poison all around,
Mix’d with the flame of sulphur burning blue!
Into that gulf fall headlong down the men
Who never felt repentance; round their limbs
The speckled serpents coil, intent to bite:
Huge as an ox, with formidable spring
Conscience, the giant scorpion, tears the heart
Of th’ vicious with its fangs: deep in their flesh
Fell Nidhög revels with insatiate tooth:
Flames crackle loud in the abyss profound,
And Bragur’s harp divine is heard no more.
Down in Hvergelmer Elivagor roars;
On every coast by shipwreck lives are lost:
The ancient firs and oaks with branches bare
Uprooted lie: the moon is swallow’d up
By Maanegarm: the sun, like out-burnt coal,
Grows dark, while loud the giants’ laugh resounds
To mock the Asar with insulting gibe.
Deep in the bosom of the mountain now
Shall Utgard-Lok his progeny excite
With eloquence indignant to avenge
The death of their forefathers. Fialar now,
The blood-red cock, is heard to crow! the dog
Yells loud and oft before the cave of Gnypa!
Then Hela opes her gates with frightful clang!
With golden helms, and yellow tresses bright
Wide streaming through the air, to battle ride
The proud Valkyrior: the decrees of fate
The Nornor now no longer can conceal.
Then days of tempest, war, and pestilence
And foul revolt arise: his brother’s life
The brother spareth not: no mercy shows
Man, flush’d with battle, to his fellow man.
Shakes with affright Yggdrassil’s top, and straight
Becomes the prey of flames! the Asar tremble,
And terror reigns upon their brows divine.
Sighs from the rack and groans re-echo loud
The miseries of the earth: upon the bridge
Heimdaller perch’d blows fearfully his horn
To rouse all nature to th’ eternal strife;
While Jormundgardur lifts his head and hisses.
With vapours dark the rainbow, once so bright,
Becomes obscured: down ride the Asar: Bifrost
Breaks down with frightful crash: the sky sucks up
The vapour like a swamp: the heavens thus lose
Their brightest ornament; while Naglefare,
With giants fill’d, through noisome weed-choked marsh
Forces its way; the black flag at the mast
Triumphant waves; Lok, prince of Utgard, stands
Himself exulting at the prow, and calls
Aloud for battle! All the giant band
With clash of shields re-echo loud the cry!
Now Fenris breaks his chain; he howls aloud,
And hails the giants with applauding yell.
His foam covers the ocean; with affright
The stars fall headlong down from heav’n, and sink
With hissing noise, extinguish’d, in the sea.
Upon the waters all the fish lie dead:
Now slowly rising from the south advances
A column thick of vapour! joy pervades
The giants’ hearts, when they behold the flame
Athwart the sultry vapour burning blue.
’Tis Surtur, whom the vast abyss sends forth,
Of the most frightful darkness puissant chief,
Grasping in both black hands his steel-blue glaive.
Now towards Valhalla’s realm he seems to move;
Now towards the earth: he rolls along the sky,
And vapours foul, and howlings horrible
Conglomerate around his dusky brow.
But who ’gainst Surtur rushes to the fight?
’Tis Frey; but he turns pale, for now his sword
He hath not: hark! a trampling loud is heard
Of horses’ hoofs: ’tis Odin; see! he hastes
To join the combat, boldly piercing through
The thickest of the fight: upon his front
The scars of Geirsodd bleed afresh: his steed
Is white; a golden crest gleams on his helm:
With Gugner arm’d he rushes on the wolf!
Alas! by Fenris’ jaws Valhalla’s lord
Is seiz’d and swallow’d up!—a morning ray
Of purple shines afar with glimm’ring light—
’Tis Odin’s blood.—Now Frigga in the sky
Is seen wringing her hands, with aspect pale:
She strives grave Vidar’s courage to excite:
Like whirlwind in the midst of vapour forth
She sends her son. Vidar no longer now
Keeps silence; fearfully he groans and sighs:
His eyes flash fire, but with extended jaws
Fenris, the wolf, rushes to meet his foe,
Gnashing his frightful teeth: but Vidar soon
O’ercomes the wolf, as were he but a whelp:
He throws him on his back, tears out his tongue,
And tramples him to death beneath his feet.
At length arrives a great important hour,
For now to vapour by the power of fire
The waters all dissolve, and the white sand
Of ocean’s depth extreme is bared to view.
Now Jormundgardur feels the burning heat,
And writhes impatient with sensation strange,
Unused on land to fold himself in coils.
See with uplifted hammer Thor approach!
So fierce a combat ne’er was seen before:
The snake with cunning strives around the limbs
Of Thor, in brazen armour cased, to wind
His dark blue rings, while on the monster’s scales
The hero’s hammer deals repeated blows.
Long and uncertain lasts the awful fight;
At length is heard a hideous scream; for now
Victorious Thor hath given the mortal blow,
And tramples with his heel the monster’s head.
But in the agonies of death around
The hero’s feet the serpent winds his folds
Still closer, and with venom-spreading foam
Bedews the conqueror’s front, and groans and dies.
Thor stands victorious; but too soon grows pale;
He staggers; now he rallies; now again
Staggers nine paces; and sinks down in death!
So heart-appalling is thy dying look,
O Thor! th’ Asynior all expire of grief:
They feel it like a dagger in their heart.
Garm destroys Tyr; but Tyr in dying pierces
The monster’s heart: now from his lurking-place,
Like cat, springs Lok, and brandishes on high
A sulfurous torch from Nastrond; on his brow
Glitters a brazen helm: Heimdaller moves
’Gainst him with sword uplifted, one blow strikes,
And down to Nastrond sinks th’ eternal foe.
Then vanishes like colours in the night
Heimdaller’s self: the dwarfs are heard to sigh
Deep in the rocks; they die of fright; yet shines
Awhile the golden car of Thor; but soon
It disappears: the two white goats expire.
But lately gleam’d a feeble light, but now
’Tis utterly extinguish’d: all creation
Sinks overwhelm’d in one vast shower of blood.
Alfader reigns once more sole lord of all.
With mind reluctant hitherto have I
A strain interpreted of presage dire,
The world’s destruction, and the Asar’s fall.
But listen now to a more pleasing theme,
The hope and consolation that ensue!
From ocean’s depth a new-form’d earth shall spring!
The azure wave reflect the new-spun grass!
Again adown the rock the cataract fall,
O’er which clouds fleeting pass, and eagles soar!
On Ida’s plain the Asar all assembled
Again awake to new-framed life and joy!
All recollection of the ancient strife
Is banish’d from their minds; a new-born child,
A graceful daughter hath the sun produced,
Who shall upon her mother’s well-known path
All glorious move, but far more beautiful
Than her, by all so dearly loved and prized.
The human race shall likewise be restored
To life from their long slumber: now awake
Lif and Liftrasir, by the morning dew
Refresh’d and nourish’d: then shall every grief
Seem but remembrance of a painful dream.
The Asar all shall to the grove repair,
Where amidst flowers the crystal fountain streams:
In all his glory will Alfader then
Reveal himself to man; his buckler hold
On high, glitt’ring with runes, whose sense sublime
Shall shield his children from all future harm.
Tablets of gold, with golden counters deck’d,
Shall in the grass be found, where violets
Give fragrant odour: on each counter shines
Each thought and action of a human life.
The facts of old shall mere illusion prove,
And med’cine, what was whilom poison held.
The corn shall not the sower’s toil require,
But spring spontaneous from the womb of earth:
No serpent lurk beneath the flower; all evil
Shall vanish: order, justice, truth and love
Eternally triumphant now shall reign.
Then high above Valhalla’s roof extends
The dwelling of the blest, the glorious Gimle,
Pavilion of the Good; an edifice
Which naught can shake, naught injure or destroy.
There shall the tender heart of Balder find
True consolation; there shall he again
Embrace his brother Hædur: Bragur too
Shall press Iduna to his breast once more:
Freya again her long lost Odur meet:
Frey fold his faithful Gerda in his arms:
Thor Sif embrace. All hearts shall cease to bleed.
But Miölner is not to be found in Gimle:
Behold! with smile of love ineffable
Alfader gives to Thor a glaive, whose hilt
Shines forth in form of cross with lilies graced.
“Now,” said the Vala, “have my lips reveal’d
All that time yet conceals: my solemn words
Ponder, O Thor! for I must now depart,
Recall’d by him, at whose behest I came.”
Thus said, she sank into the yawning ground!
A fearful gust of wind howl’d through the rocks,
And in the cave Thor found himself alone:
His hammer in his bosom lay; at once
He recognized the fatal weapon. Tialfe
Lay slumb’ring by his side: in heaps around
The giants’ bodies strew’d, all drench’d with gore;
Bore witness to the prowess he display’d.
Thor now again ascends to Valaskialf:
The Vala’s revelation he imparts
To Odin: Odin and the Asar all
Silent remain, immers’d in thought profound!
Here ends my song about the Gods on high.