The Essential William Morris Collection. William Morris

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СКАЧАТЬ my hand rose with it, and I leaped and hewed at the Hun; And from him too flared the war-flame, and the blades danced bright in the sun Come back to the earth for a little before the ending of day.

      "There then with all that was in him did the Hun play out the play, Till he fell, and left me tottering, and I turned my feet to wend To the place of the mound of the mighty, the gate of the way without end. And there thou wert. How was it, thou Chooser of the Slain, Did I die in thine arms, and thereafter did thy mouth-kiss wake me again?"

      Ere the last sound of his voice was done she turned and kissed him; and then she said; "Never hadst thou a fear and thine heart is full of hardihood."

      Then he said:

      "'Tis the hardy heart, beloved, that keepeth me alive, As the king-leek in the garden by the rain and the sun doth thrive, So I thrive by the praise of the people; it is blent with my drink and my meat; As I slumber in the night-tide it laps me soft and sweet; And through the chamber window when I waken in the morn With the wind of the sun's arising from the meadow is it borne And biddeth me remember that yet I live on earth: Then I rise and my might is with me, and fills my heart with mirth, As I think of the praise of the people; and all this joy I win By the deeds that my heart commandeth and the hope that lieth therein."

      "Yea," she said, "but day runneth ever on the heels of day, and there are many and many days; and betwixt them do they carry eld."

      "Yet art thou no older than in days bygone," said he. "Is it so, O Daughter of the Gods, that thou wert never born, but wert from before the framing of the mountains, from the beginning of all things?"

      But she said:

      "Nay, nay; I began, I was born; although it may be indeed That not on the hills of the earth I sprang from the godhead's seed. And e'en as my birth and my waxing shall be my waning and end. But thou on many an errand, to many a field dost wend Where the bow at adventure bended, or the fleeing dastard's spear Oft lulleth the mirth of the mighty. Now me thou dost not fear, Yet fear with me, beloved, for the mighty Maid I fear; And Doom is her name, and full often she maketh me afraid And even now meseemeth on my life her hand is laid."

      But he laughed and said:

      "In what land is she abiding? Is she near or far away? Will she draw up close beside me in the press of the battle play? And if then I may not smite her 'midst the warriors of the field With the pale blade of my fathers, will she bide the shove of my shield?"

      But sadly she sang in answer:

      "In many a stead Doom dwelleth, nor sleepeth day nor night: The rim of the bowl she kisseth, and beareth the chambering light When the kings of men wend happy to the bride-bed from the board. It is little to say that she wendeth the edge of the grinded sword, When about the house half builded she hangeth many a day; The ship from the strand she shoveth, and on his wonted way By the mountain-hunter fareth where his foot ne'er failed before: She is where the high bank crumbles at last on the river's shore: The mower's scythe she whetteth; and lulleth the shepherd to sleep Where the deadly ling-worm wakeneth in the desert of the sheep. Now we that come of the God-kin of her redes for ourselves we wot, But her will with the lives of men-folk and their ending know we not. So therefore I bid thee not fear for thyself of Doom and her deed, But for me: and I bid thee hearken to the helping of my need. Or else--Art thou happy in life, or lusteth thou to die In the flower of thy days, when thy glory and thy longing bloom on high?"

      But Thiodolf answered her:

      "I have deemed, and long have I deemed that this is my second life, That my first one waned with my wounding when thou cam'st to the ring of strife. For when in thine arms I wakened on the hazelled field of yore, Meseemed I had newly arisen to a world I knew no more, So much had all things brightened on that dewy dawn of day. It was dark dull death that I looked for when my thought had died away. It was lovely life that I woke to; and from that day henceforth My joy of the life of man-folk was manifolded of worth. Far fairer the fields of the morning than I had known them erst, And the acres where I wended, and the corn with its half-slaked thirst; And the noble Roof of the Wolfings, and the hawks that sat thereon; And the bodies of my kindred whose deliverance I had won; And the glimmering of the Hall-Sun in the dusky house of old; And my name in the mouth of the maidens, and the praises of the bold, As I sat in my battle-raiment, and the ruddy spear well steeled Leaned 'gainst my side war-battered, and the wounds thine hand had healed. Yea, from that morn thenceforward has my life been good indeed, The gain of to-day was goodly, and good to-morrow's need, And good the whirl of the battle, and the broil I wielded there, Till I fashioned the ordered onset, and the unhoped victory fair. And good were the days thereafter of utter deedless rest And the prattle of thy daughter, and her hands on my unmailed breast. Ah good is the life thou hast given, the life that mine hands have won. And where shall be the ending till the world is all undone? Here sit we twain together, and both we in Godhead clad, We twain of the Wolfing kindred, and each of the other glad."

      But she answered, and her face grew darker withal:

      "O mighty man and joyous, art thou of the Wolfing kin? 'Twas no evil deed when we mingled, nor lieth doom therein. Thou lovely man, thou black-haired, thou shalt die and have done no ill. Fame-crowned are the deeds of thy doing, and the mouths of men they fill. Thou betterer of the Godfolk, enduring is thy fame: Yet as a painted image of a dream is thy dreaded name. Of an alien folk thou comest, that we twain might be one indeed. Thou shalt die one day. So hearken, to help me at my need."

      His face grew troubled and he said: "What is this word that I am no chief of the Wolfings?"

      "Nay," she said, "but better than they. Look thou on the face of our daughter the Hall-Sun, thy daughter and mine: favoureth she at all of me?"

      He laughed: "Yea, whereas she is fair, but not otherwise. This is a hard saying, that I dwell among an alien kindred, and it wotteth not thereof. Why hast thou not told me hereof before?"

      She said: "It needed not to tell thee because thy day was waxing, as now it waneth. Once more I bid thee hearken and do my bidding though it be hard to thee."

      He answered: "Even so will I as much as I may; and thus wise must thou look upon it, that I love life, and fear not death."

      Then she spake, and again her words fell into rhyme:

      "In forty fights hast thou foughten, and been worsted but in four; And I looked on and was merry; and ever more and more Wert thou dear to the heart of the Wood-Sun, and the Chooser of the Slain. But now whereas ye are wending with slaughter-herd and wain To meet a folk that ye know not, a wonder, a peerless foe, I fear for thy glory's waning, and I see thee lying alow."

      Then he brake in: "Herein is little shame to be worsted by the might of the mightiest: if this so mighty folk sheareth a limb off the tree of my fame, yet shall it wax again."

      But she sang:

      "In forty fights hast thou foughten, and beside thee who but I Beheld the wind-tossed banners, and saw the aspen fly? But to-day to thy war I wend not, for Weird withholdeth me And sore my heart forebodeth for the battle that shall be. To-day with thee I wend not; so I feared, and lo my feet, That are wont to the woodland girdle of the acres of the wheat, For thee among strange people and the foeman's throng have trod, And I tell thee their banner of battle is a wise and a mighty God. For these are the folk of the cities, and in wondrous wise they dwell 'Mid confusion of heaped houses, dim and black as the face of hell; Though therefrom rise roofs most goodly, where their captains and their kings Dwell amidst the walls of marble in abundance of fair СКАЧАТЬ