FROM THE SWEDISH AND DANISH.

PASSAGES FROM FRITHIOF'S SAGA.

BY ESAIAS TEGNÉR.

I.

FRITHIOF'S HOMESTEAD.

THREE miles extended around the fields

of the homestead, on three sides Valleys and mountains and hills, but on

the fourth side was the ocean. Birch woods crowned the summits, but

down the slope of the hillsides Flourished the golden corn, and man

high was waving the rye-field. Lakes, full many in number, their mirror held up for the mountains, Held for the forests up, in whose depths the high-horned reindeers

Had their kingly walk, and drank of a hundred brooklets.

But in the valleys widely around, there

fed on the greensward Herds with shining hides and udders

that longed for the milk-pail. 'Mid these scattered, now here and now

there, were numberless flocks of Sheep with fleeces white, as thou seest

the white-looking stray clouds, Flockwise spread o'er the heavenly vault when it bloweth in springtime.

Coursers two times twelve, all mettle

some, fast fettered storm-winds, Stamping stood in the line of stalls, and tugged at their fodder. Knotted with red were their manes, and their hoofs all white with steel shoes.

Th' banquet-hall, a house by itself, was

timbered of hard fir.

Not five hundred men (at ten times twelve to the hundred) Filled up the roomy hall, when assembled for drinking, at Yule-tide. Thorough the hall, as long as it was, went a table of holm-oak, Polished and white, as of steel; the col

umns twain of the High-seat

Stood at the end thereof, two gods carved out of an elm-tree:

Lately between the two, on a bear-skin (the skin it was coal-black, Scarlet-red was the throat, but the paws were shodden with silver), Thorsten sat with his friends, Hospitality sitting with Gladness.

Oft, when the moon through the cloudrack flew, related the old man Wonders from distant lands he had seen, and cruises of Vikings

Far away on the Baltic, and Sea of the West, and the White Sea. Hushed sat the listening bench, and their glances hung on the graybeard's Lips, as a bee on the rose; but the Scald was thinking of Brage, Where, with his silver beard, and runes on his tongue, he is seated Under the leafy beech, and tells a tradition by Mimer's

Ever-murmuring wave, himself a living tradition.

Midway the floor (with thatch was it

strewn) burned ever the fire-flame Glad on its stone-built hearth; and thor

ough the wide-mouthed smoke-flue Looked the stars, those heavenly friends, down into the great hall. Round the walls, upon nails of steel, were hanging in order Breastplate and helmet together, and here and there among them Downward lightened a sword, as in winter evening a star shoots. More than helmets and swords the shields in the hall were resplendent, White as the orb of the sun, or white as the moon's disk of silver.

Ever and anon went a maid round the board, and filled up the drinkhorns,

Ever she cast down her eyes and blushed; in the shield her reflection Blushed, too, even as she; this gladdened the drinking champions.

II.

A SLEDGE-RIDE ON THE ICE.

KING RING with his queen to the banquet did fare,

On the lake stood the ice so mirror-clear.

"Fare not o'er the ice," the stranger cries;

the sun on his frontlet.

bath lies."

Like a star upon a spring-cloud sits she on her palfrey white.

Half of Freya, half of Rota, yet more beauteous than these two,

And from her light hat of purple wave aloft the feathers blue.

Gaze not at her eyes' blue heaven, gaze not at her golden hair!

Oh beware! her waist is slender, full her bosom is, beware! Look not at the rose and lily on her cheek that shifting play,

List not to the voice beloved, whispering like the wind of May.

Now the huntsman's band is ready. Hurrah! over hill and dale! Horns ring, and the hawks right upward to the hall of Odin sail.

All the dwellers in the forest seek in fear their cavern homes, But, with spear outstretched before her, after them the Valkyr comes.

And the ancient king so trustful laid on Frithiof's knee his head,

Slept as calmly as the hero sleepeth, after war's alarm,

On his shield, or as an infant sleeps upon its mother's arm.

As he slumbers, hark! there sings a coal-black bird upon the bough; Hasten, Frithiof, slay the old man, end your quarrel at a blow: Take his queen, for she is thine, and once the bridal kiss she gave, Now no human eye beholds thee, deep and silent is the grave."

Frithiof listens; hark! there sings a

snow-white bird upon the bough: "Though no human eye beholds thee, Odin's eye beholds thee now. Coward! wilt thou murder sleep, and a defenceless old man slay! Whatsoe'er thou winn'st, thou canst not win a hero's fame this way." Thus the two wood-birds did warble: Frithiof took his war-sword good.

With a shudder hurled it from him, far

into the gloomy wood. Coal-black bird flies down to Nastrand, but on light, unfolded wings, Like the tone of harps, the other, sounding towards the sun, upsprings.

Straight the ancient king awakens. "Sweet has been my sleep," he said;

Pleasantly sleeps one in the shadow,

guarded by a brave man's blade. But where is thy sword, O stranger? Lightning's brother, where is he ? Who thus parts you, who should never

from each other parted be?

"It avails not," Frithiof answered; "in the North are other swords: Sharp, O monarch! is the sword's tongue, and it speaks not peaceful words;

Murky spirits dwell in steel blades, spirits from the Niffelhem; Slumber is not safe before them, silver locks but anger them."

IV.

FRITHIOF'S FAREWELL.

No more shall I see

In its upward motion

The smoke of the Northland. Man is a

slave:

The fates decree.

On the waste of the ocean

There is my fatherland, there is my grave.

Go not to the strand,
Ring, with thy bride,

After the stars spread their light through
the sky.
Perhaps in the sand,
Washed up by the tide,

The bones of the outlawed Viking may lie.

Then, quoth the king,

"'Tis mournful to hear

A man like a whimpering maiden cry. The death-song they sing

Even now in mine ear.

What avails it? He who is born must die."

Thee!"

ing;

No cross nor trial

THUS then, much care-worn,

The son of Healfden

Sorrowed evermore,

Nor might the prudent hero
His woes avert.

The war was too hard,
Too loath and longsome,
That on the people came,
Dire wrath and grim,
Of night-woes the worst.
This from home heard
Higelac's Thane,

Good among the Goths,
Grendel's deeds.
He was of mankind
In might the strongest,
At that day
Of this life,

Noble and stalwart.
He bade him a sea-ship,
A goodly one, prepare.
Quoth he, the war-king,
Over the swan's road,
Seek he would
The mighty monarch,
Since he wanted men.