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Or will to find a purpose. With the

II. dawn The sleep-laid timbers, crumbled to soft

THORWALD'S LAY. mist,

So Biörn went comfortless but for his Denied all foothold. But the dream thought, remained,

And by his thought the more discomAnd every night with yellow-bearded forted, kings

Till Eric Thurlson kept his Yule-tide His sleep was haunted, — mighty men feast : of old,

And thither came he, called among the Once young as he, now ancient like the rest, gods,

Silent, lone-minded, a church-door to And safe as stars in all men's memo- mirth : ries.

But, ere deep draughts forbade such Strange sagas read he in their sea-blue serious song eyes

As the grave Škald might chant nor Cold as the sea, grandly compassionless; after blush, Like life, they made him eager and then Then Eric looked at Thorwald where he

mocked. Nay, broad awake, they would not let Mute as a cloud amid the stormy hall, him be;

And said: “O Skald, sing now an olden They shaped themselves gigantic in the song, mist,

Such as our fathers heard who led great They rose far-beckoning in the lamps of L lives; heaven,

And, as the bravest on a shield is borne They whispered invitation in the winds, Along the waving host that shouts him And breath came from them, mightier king, than the wind,

So rode their thrones upon the throngTo strain the lagging sails of his resolve, ing seas !" Till that grew passion which before was Then the old man arose ; white-haired wish,

he stood, And youth seemed all too costly to be White-bearded, and with eyes that staked

looked afar On the soiled cards wherewith men From their still region of perpetual snow, played their game,

Beyond the little smokes and stirs of Letting Time pocket up the larger life, men : Lost with base gain of raiment, food, His head was bowed with gathered and roof.

flakes of years, What helpeth lightness of the feet?” As winter bends the sea-foreboding pine, they said,

But something triumphed in his brow "Oblivion runs with swifter foot than and eye, they;

Which whoso saw it could not see and Or strength of sinew? New men come crouch: as strong,

Loud rang the emptied beakers as he And those sleep nameless; or renown in mused, war?

Brooding his eyried thoughts; then, as Swords grave no name on the long. an eagle memoried rock

Circles smooth-winged above the wind. But moss shall hide it; they alone who vexed woods, wring

So wheeled his soul into the air of song Some secret purpose from the unwilling High o'er the stormy hall; and thus he gods

sang: Survive in song for yet a little while "The fletcher for his arrow-shaft picks To vex, like us, the dreams of later out

Wood closest - grained, long-seasoned, Ourselves a dream, and dreamlike all we straight as light;

| And from a quiver full of such as these

men,

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The wary bowman, matched against his | That chatter loudest as they mean the peers,

least ; Long doubting, singles yet once more Swift-willed is thrice-willed; late means the best.

nevermore;
Who is it needs such flawless shafts as Impatient is her foot, nor turns again."
Fate?

He ceased; upon his bosom sank his
What archer of his arrows is so choice, beard
Or hits the white so surely? They are Sadly, as one who oft had seen her pass
men,

Nor stayed her: and forthwith the
The chosen of her quiver; nor for her frothy tide
Will every reed suffice, or cross-grained Of interrupted wassail roared along;
stick

But Biörn, the son of Heriulf, sat apart At random from life's vulgar fagot Musing, and, with his eyes upon the fire, plucked :

Saw shapes of arrows, lost as soon as seen. Such answer household ends; but she “A ship,” he muttered, “is a winged will have

bridge Souls straight and clear, of toughest That leadeth every way to man's desire, fibre, sound

And ocean the wide gate to manful Down to the heart of heart; from these luck”; she strips

And then with that resolve his heart All needless stuff, all sapwood ; seasons was bent, them ;

Which, like a humming shaft, through From circumstance untoward feathers many a stripe plucks

Of day and night, across the unpath-
Crumpled and cheap; and barbs with wayed seas
iron will:

Shot the brave prow that cut on Vin.
The hour that passes is her quiver-boy: land sands
When she draws bow, 't is not across The first rune in the Saga of the West.

the wind,
Nor 'gainst the sun her haste-snatched

III. arrow sings, For sun and wind have plighted faith GUDRIDA'S PROPHECY.

to her: Ere men have heard the sinew twang, Four weeks they sailed, a speck in sky. behold

shut seas, In the butt's heart her trembling mes- Life, where was never life that knew senger!

itself,

But tumbled lubber-like in blowing “The song is old and simple that I whales ; sing ;

Thought, where the like had never been But old and simple are despised as before cheap,

Since Thought primeval brooded the Though hardest to achieve of human abyss ; things:

Alone as men were never in the world. Good were the days of yore, when men They saw the icy foundlings of the sea, were tried

White cliffs of silence, beautiful by day, By ring of shields, as now by ring of Or looming, sudden-perilous, at night words ;

In monstrous hush; or sometimes in the But while the gods are left, and hearts dark of men,

The waves broke ominous with paly
And wide-doored ocean, still the days gleams
are good.

Crushed by the prow in sparkles of cold
Still o'er the earth hastes Opportunity,
Seeking the hardy soul that seeks for Then came green stripes of sea that
her.

promised land
Be not abroad, nor deaf with household But brought it not, and on the thirtieth
cares

day

Low in the West were wooded shores

like cloud. They shouted as men shout with sud

den hope; But Biörn was silent, such strange loss

there is Between the dream's fulfilment and the

dream, Such sad abatement in the goal attained. Then Gudrida, that was a prophetess, Rapt with strange influence from At

lantis, sang: Her words: the vision was the dream

ing shore's.

Looms there the New Land :
Locked in the shadow
Long the gods shut it,
Niggards of newness
They, the o'er-old.

Little it looks there, Slim as a cloud-streak; It shall fold peoples Even as a shepherd Foldeth his flock.

Silent it sleeps now; Great ships shall seek it, Swarming as salmon; Noise of its numbers Two seas shall hear.

Leaving their sons' sons All things save song-craft, Plant long in growing, Thrusting its tap-root Deep in the Gone. Here men shall grow up Strong from self-helping; Eyes for the present Bring they as eagles', Blind to the Past. They shall make over Creed, law, and custom; Driving-men, doughty Builders of empire, Builders of men. Here is no singer ; What should they sing of? They, the unresting? Labor is ugly, Loathsome is change. These the old gods hate, Dwellers in dream-land, Drinking delusion Out of the empty Skull of the Past. These hate the old gods, Warring against them; Fatal to Odin, Here the wolf Fenrir Lieth in wait. Here the gods' Twilight Gathers, earth-gulfing; Blackness of battle, Fierce till the Old World Flare up in fire. Doubt not, my Northmen; Fate loves the fearless; Fools, when their roof-tree Falls, think it doomsday; Firm stands the sky. Over the ruin See I the promise; Crisp waves the cornfield, Peace-walled, the homestead Waits open-doored. There lies the New Land; Yours to behold it, Not to possess it; Slowly Fate's perfect Fulness shall come.

Man from the Northland,
Man from the Southland,
Haste empty-handed;
No more than manhood
Bring they, and hands.

Dark hair and fair hair, Red blood and blue blood, There shall be mingled; Force of the ferment Makes the New Man.

Pick of all kindreds,
King's blood shall theirs be,
Shoots of the eldest
Stock upon Midgard,
Sons of the poor,

Them waits the New Land;
They shall subdue it,
Leaving their sons' sons
Space for the body,
Space for the soul.

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"Were yon stone alone in question, this | A conjuring-spell to free the imprisoned would please me well,”

sound; Mahmood said ; "but, with the block At last his vainly wearied limbs he laid there, I my truth must sell. Beneath a sacred laurel's flickering shade,

And sleep about his brain her cobweb “Wealth and rule slip down with For wound.

tune, as her wheel turns round ; He who keeps his faith, he only cannot Then strode the mighty Mother through be discrowned.

his dreams,

Saying: “The reeds along a thousand “Little were a change of station, loss streams of life or crown,

Are mine, and who is he that plots and But the wreck were past retrieving if the schemes Man fell down.

To snare the melodies wherewith my

breath So his iron mace he lifted, smote with Sounds through the double pipes of Life might and main,

and Death, And the idol, on the pavement tumbling, Atoning what to men mad discord burst in twain.

seems?

grew

Luck obeys the downright striker ; from “He seeks not me, but I seek oft in the hollow core,

vain Fifty times the Brahmins' offer deluged For him who shall my voiceful reeds all the floor.

constrain, And make them utter their melodious

pain; INVITA MINERVA.

He flies the immortal gift, for well he

knows THE Bardling came where by a river His life of life must with its overflows

Flood the unthankful pipe, nor como The pennoned reeds, that, as the west

again. wind blew, Gleamed and sighed plaintively, as if

“Thou fool, who dost my harmless

Thou for they knew What music slept enchanted in each

subjects wrong, | 'T is not the singer's wish that makes

mis stem,

the song: Till Pan should choose some happy one the there

ose some happy one The rhythinic beauty wanders dumb, of them, And with wise lips enlife it through and

how long,

Nor stoops to any daintiest instrument, through.

Till, found its mated lips, their sweet

consent The Bardling thought, “A pipe is all I Makes mortal breath than Time and need ;

Fate more strong.' Once I have sought me out a clear,

smooth reed, And shaped it to my fancy, I proceed To breathe such strains as, yonder mid THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.

the rocks, The strange youth blows, that tends

Admetus' flocks, And all the maidens shall to me pay 'T is a woodland enchanted ! heed."

By no sadder spirit

Than blackbirds and thrushes, The summer day he spent in questful That whistle to cheer it round,

All day in the bushes, And many a reed he marred, but never This woodland is haunted : found

And in a small clearing,

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