Read the form of communion, and in chimed the organ and anthem; O holy Lamb of God, who takest away our transgressions, Hear us! give us thy peace! have mercy, have mercy upon us! Th' old man, with trembling hand, and heavenly pearls on his eyelids, Filled now the chalice and paten, and dealt round the mystical symbols. Oh, then seemed it to me as if God, with the broad eye of mid-day, Clearer looked in at the windows, and all the trees in the churchyard Bowed down their summits of green, and the grass on the graves 'gan to shiver. But in the children (I noted it well; I knew it,) there ran a Tremour of holy rapture along through their icy-cold members. Decked like an altar before them, there stood the green earth, and above it Heaven opened itself, as of old before Stephen; they saw there Radiant in glory the Father, and on his right hand the Redeemer. Under them hear they the clang of harp-strings, and angels from gold clouds Beckon to them like brothers, and fan with their pinions of purple. Closed was the Teacher's task; and with heaven in their hearts and their faces Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely, Downward to kiss that reverend hand; but all of them pressed he, Moved, to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of blessings, Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses. FRITHIOF'S HOMESTEAD. FROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNÉR. [THE Legend of Frithiof is one of the most remarkable productions of the age. It is an epic poem, composed of a series of ballads, each describing some event in the hero's life, and each written in a different measure, according with the action described in the ballad.] 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 over the downsloping hill-sides 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-antlered reindeers Had their kingly walk, and drank of a hundred brooklets. But in the valleys, full widely around, there fed on the greensward Herds with sleek, shining sides, and udders that longed for the milk-pail. 'Mid these were scattered, now here and now there, a vast, countless number Of white-woolled sheep, as thou seest the white-looking stray clouds, Flock-wise, spread o'er the heavenly vault, when it bloweth in spring-time. Twice twelve swift-footed coursers mettlesome, fastfettered storm-winds, Stamping stood in the line of stalls, all champing their fodder, Knotted with red their manes, and their hoofs all whitened with steel shoes. The 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 columns twain of the high-seat Stood at the end thereof, two gods carved out of an elmtree; Odint with lordly look, and Frey‡ with the sun on his frontlet. 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 among the night-clouds flew, related the old man Wonders from far distant lands he had seen, and cruises of Vikings § Far on the Baltic and Sea of the West, and the North Sea. Hushed sat the listening bench, and their glances hung on the greybeard's Lips, as a bee on the rose; but the Scald was thinking of Bragé, || Where, with silver beard, and runes on his tongue, he is seated Under the leafy beach, and tells a tradition by Mimer's T Ever-murmuring wave, himself a living tradition. Midway the floor (with thatch was it strewn), burned for ever the fire-flame * An old fashion of reckoning in the North. + Odin, the All-father; the Jupiter of Scandinavian mythology. Frey, the god of Liberty; the Bacchus of the North. He represents the Sun at the winter solstice. § The old pirates of the North were called Vikingar, Kings of the Gulf. Bragé, the god of Song; the Scandinavian Apollo. ¶ Mimer, the god of Eloquence. He sat by the wave of Urda, the Destiny of the Past. Glad on its stone-built hearth; and through the widemouthed smoke-flue Looked the stars, those heavenly friends, down into the great hall. But round the walls, upon nails of steel, were hanging in order Breastplate and helm with each other, and here and there in among them Downward lightened a sword, as in winter evening a star shoots. More than helmets and swords, the shields in the banquethall glistened, 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 drink-horns; Ever she cast down her eyes and blushed; in the shield her reflexion Blushed too, even as she;-this gladdened the hard-drinking champions. 'FRITHIOF'S TEMPTATION. 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 rose-buds 'gin to ope, And in human hearts awaken love of life, and joy, and hope. Now will hunt the ancient monarch, and the queen shall join the sport; Swarming in its gorgeous splendour is assembled all the court; Bows ring loud, and quivers rattle, stallions paw the ground alway, And, with hoods upon their eyelids, falcons scream aloud for prey. See, the queen of the chase advances! Frithiof, gaze not on the sight! 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. 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 Valkyria comes. 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 alarms As he slumbers, hark! there sings a coal-black bird upon 66 a bough: Hasten, Frithiof, slay the old man, close your quarrel at a blow; *The goddess of Love and Beauty. One of the Valkyries. The Valkyries are celestial virgins, who bear off the souls of the slain in battle. |