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By Esaias Tegnér
SPRING is coming, birds are twittering, forests leaf, and smiles the sun, | |
| And the loosened torrents downward, singing, to the ocean run; | |
| Glowing like the cheek of Freya, peeping rosebuds ’gin to ope, | |
| And in human hearts awaken love of life, and joy, and hope. | |
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| Now will hunt the ancient monarch, and the queen shall join the sport: | 5 |
| Swarming in its gorgeous splendor, is assembled all the court; | |
| Bows ring loud, and quivers rattle, stallions paw the ground alway, | |
| And, with hoods upon their eyelids, scream the falcons for their prey. | |
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| See, the Queen of the chase advances! Frithiof, gaze not at the sight! | |
| Like a star upon a spring-cloud sits she on her palfrey white. | 10 |
| Half of Freya, half of Rota, yet more beauteous than these two, | |
| And from her light hat of purple wave aloft the feathers blue. | |
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| 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, | 15 |
| List not to the voice beloved, whispering like the wind of May. | |
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| 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. * * * * * | 20 |
| Then threw Frithiof down his mantle, and upon the greensward spread, | |
| 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. | |
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| As he slumbers, hark! there sings a coal-black bird upon the bough; | 25 |
| “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.” | |
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| Frithiof listens; hark! there sings a snow-white bird upon the bough: | |
| “Though no human eye beholds thee, Odin’s eye beholds thee now. | 30 |
| 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.” | |
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| 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, | 35 |
| Like the tone of harps, the other, sounding towards the sun, upsprings. | |
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| 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!” | 40 |
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| “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.” | |
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