Over the
Drank I with heroes,
Under the Donau bank,
Warm in the snow trench:
Sagamen heard I there,
Men of the Longbeards,
Cunning and ancient,
Honey-sweet-voiced.
Scaring the wolf cub,
Scaring the horn-owl,
Shaking the
Down from the pine-boughs,
Up to the star
Rang out their song.
Singing how Winil men,
Over the
Sledging from
Came unto Scoring;
Singing of Gambara,
Freya's beloved,
Mother of Ayo,
Mother of Ibor.
Singing of Wendel men,
Ambri and Assi;
How to the
Went they with war-words,—'Few are ye, strangers,
And many are we:
Pay us now toll and fee,
Cloth-yarn, and rings, and beeves:
Else at the raven's
Bide the sharp bill's doom.'Clutching the dwarfs work then,
Clutching the bullock's shell,
Girding gray iron on,
Forth fared the Winils all,
Fared the Alruna's sons,
Ayo and Ibor.
Mad at heart stalked they:
Loud wept the women all,
Loud the Alruna wife;
Sore was their need.
Out of the morning land,
Over the snow-drifts,
Beautiful Freya came,
Tripping to Scoring.
White were the moorlands,
And frozen before her:
Green were the moorlands,
And blooming behind her.
Out of her gold
Shaking the spring flowers,
Out of her
Shaking the south wind,
Around in the
Awaking the throstles,
And making chaste housewives
Long for their heroes home,
Loving and love-giving,
Came she to Scoring.
Came unto Gambara,
Wisest of Valas,—'Vala, why weepest thou?
Far in the wide-blue,
High up in the Elfin-home,
Heard I thy weeping.''Stop not my weeping,
Till one can fight seven.
Sons have I, heroes tall,
First in the sword-play;
This day at the Wendels'
Eagles must tear them.
Their mothers, thrall-weary,
Must grind for the Wendels.'Wept the Alruna wife;
Kissed her fair Freya:—'Far off in the morning land,
High in Valhalla,
A window stands open;
Its sill is the snow-peaks,
Its posts are the waterspouts,
Storm-rack its lintel;
Gold cloud-flakes
Are piled for the roofing,
Far up to the Elfin-home,
High in the wide-blue.
Smiles out each morning
Odin Allfather;
From under the
Smiles out on the heroes,
Smiles on chaste housewives all,
Smiles on the brood-mares,
Smiles on the smiths' work:
And theirs is the sword-luck,
With them is the glory,—So Odin hath sworn it,—Who first in the
Shall meet him and greet him.'Still the Alruna wept:—'Who then shall greet him?
Women alone are here:
Far on the
Behind the war-lindens,
In vain for the bill's
Watch Winil heroes all,
One against seven.'Sweetly the Queen laughed:—'Hear thou my counsel now;
Take to thee cunning,
Beloved of Freya.
Take thou thy women-folk,
Maidens and wives:
Over your
Lace on the white war-hose;
Over your
Link up the hard mail-nets;
Over your
Plait long tresses with cunning;—So war-beasts
King Odin shall deem you,
When off the gray
At sunrise ye greet him.'Night's son was
His golden-haired horses up;
Over the eastern
High flashed their manes.
Smiled from the cloud-eaves
Allfather Odin,
Waiting the battle-sport:
Freya stood by him.'Who are these heroes tall,—Lusty-limbed Longbeards?
Over the swans'
Why cry they to me?
Bones should be crashing fast,
Wolves should be full-fed,
Where such, mad-hearted,
Swing hands in the sword-play.'Sweetly laughed Freya:—'A name thou hast given them,
Shames neither thee nor them,
Well can they wear it.
Give them the victory,
First have they greeted thee;
Give them the victory,
Yokefellow mine!
Maidens and wives are these,—Wives of the Winils;
Few are their
And far on the war-road,
So over the swans'
They cry unto thee.'Royally laughed he then;
Dear was that craft to him,
Odin Allfather,
Shaking the clouds.'Cunning are women all,
Bold and importunate!
Longbeards their name shall be,
Ravens shall thank them:
Where women are heroes,
What must the men be?
Theirs is the victory;
No need of me!'Eversley, 1852.
From Hypatia.
