Classic Poem

King Bele, leaning on his sword, i' th' hall of council stood;
And near him Thorsten Vikingson, that bonde brave and good,
His age was full an hundred years; snow-white his hair and beard;
And, like an ancient runic stone, his brow with scars was sear'd.

And like two temples they appear, placed on a mountain high,
Which, destin'd once to Pagan Gods, in ruin'd masses lie:
Full many runes are graven there upon the ancient wall,
That speak of times long since gone by, and brighter days recall.

King Bele said: " See night approach, and close my weary task,
The hydromel I taste no more, and heavy weighs my casque:
The brightest day can scarcely now illume my fading eye;
I hear Valhalla's summons plain; and death, I feel, is nigh.

" And now I've bid my sons attend, and, Thorsten, also thine;
Our children should be friends, old man, as thou wert ever mine,
On those proud eaglets I would fain some sage advice bestow,
While these pale lips may utter yet a murmur faint and low. "

And even as king Bele spoke, the hall doors wide unfold;
First Helge comes; how dark his eye, — his bearing fierce and bold!
His joy was priestly craft alone; he lov'd the victim's cries,
And lo! upon his hand still reeks the blood of sacrifice.

Next Halfdan comes, a blooming boy, with skin so dazzling fair;
But too effeminate his form, too curl'd his golden hair;
His sword in a rich girdle hung, as if alone for play,
And like a youthful maid he seem'd, so smiling, soft, and gay.

Last of the three, young Frithiof came, wrapp'd in his mantle blue;
His height the other two surpass'd, more firm his step and true.
Between the brothers there he stood, with proud majestic mien,
As still, between the morn and eve, the brighter day is seen.

" My children, " said the aged king, " I feel th' approach of death;
In concord govern ye the land, when I'm deprived of breath:
For, e'en as rings support the lance, concord upholds the throne;
If from the lance you take the rings, its strength at once is gone.

" Let force remain as sentinel to watch the country's door,
But to fair peace an altar raise, and still her smile adore:
For to defend, not injure man, should be the weapon's lot;
And let your shield be ever placed before the peasant's cot.

" 'Tis but the man insane that seeks t' oppress his native land;
What can a monarch e' er achieve without his people's hand?
The foliage of the glorious oak must wither and decay,
If the bold trunk no life receives from hard and barren clay.

" Behold, on four proud columns raised, how firm yon vaulted sky!
E'en so should every monarch's throne on law's firm basis lie:
To the remorseless tyrant's path, doubt, fear, and danger cling;
Justice alone can render blest the country and the king.

" Helge, I grant, in Disarsal the mighty Asas dwell, —
But think not they are snails, my son, that never quit their shell:
Where'er a sound the ear can reach, or rays illume the air,
Wherever thought extends its flight, the Asas' power is there.

" The falcon's entrails may deceive, — such signs are often vain,
And on yon deeply sculptured stone, say will those runes remain?
" But on a heart sincere and pure, great Odin's hand doth trace
Far deeper runes , which time itself can never thence efface.

" Be firm, but never harsh, oh king inflict not useless pains;
The steel that strikes the surest blow still flexible remains:
Compassion suits a monarch's heart, as flowers adorn the shield;
Say, is it spring, or winter's cold that fructifies the field?

" The friendless man, whate'er his rank, is wretched and forlorn;
He's like the pine-tree in the waste, from which the bark is torn
But like a tree within a grove the man befriended stands;
It's root the purling streamlets feed; all tempests it withstands.

" Boast not thy lineage proud and high; on thy own worth depend;
Say, wouldst thou call that bow thine own which thou canst never bend?
What profit then the noble deeds that sepulchres inclose?
By its own force the river glides, and to yon ocean flows.

" Halfdan, a cheerful, gentle mind the Gods themselves approve;
But all the actions of a prince his purpose firm should prove;
The bitter mingles with the sweet the hydromel to form;
Put steel into thy sword, young man, — that laughing brow reform.

" The wisest man, I freely own, can know but little here;
Yet he, alas! who nothing knows, may well derision fear;
A fool, high placed on chair of state, receives not homage true,
But the sage man, whate'er his place, all men with honor view.

" To seek a friend, like him I see, thy foster brother dear,
No road should ever long, my son, nor difficult appear.
But if to seek thy foe's abode the path thou shouldst pursue,
A dangerous labyrinth 'twill prove, however straight to view.

" Chuse not the first man for thy friend, give not to all thine hand;
The palace, not the poor man's hut, doth most a key demand;
" And to one faithful friend alone thy bosom's thoughts unfold,
For the whole world, oh, Halfdan, knows what to a third is told. "

Then Thorsten Vikingson arose, his purpose to declare:
" Oh, think not, sire, thou shalt alone to Odin's hall repair.
King Bele, we have ever shared each change of mortal fate;
And we must e'en together still our future doom await.

" Frithiof, I now would fain to thee my latest thoughts impart;
Oh, listen to my dying words and grave them in thy heart!
As Odin's birds, in northern lands, on sepulchres descend,
So wisdom to the aged man her accent loves to lend.

" My son, revere the mighty Gods, — for good as well as ill,
The tempest and the rosy light obey their sovereign will:
And in our bosom can they not each secret motive trace?
Ah! many years it may require one error to efface.

" Honor the king — for on this earth one man should reign alone:
The sable night hath many eyes, the brighter day but one:
And noble men we ever see achieve the noblest deeds;
Let but the sword be firm enough, it seldom sharpness needs.

" Force is a goodly gift, I grant, — yet, Frithiof, oh! reflect
That force can only serve the man whose sense commands respect:
Is he not stronger far than us, the bear we kill in fight?
The shield is meant t' arrest the sword, and law to conquer might.

" The proud man is not always fear'd, but all oppose his will,
Presumption is the parent oft of bitter grief and ill.
I've seen those soar with haughty wings, who totter now with pain, —
For like the wind is fortune's smile, so fickle, false, and vain.

" And never, Frithiof, bless the day until the set of sun;
Praise not the beer, till thou hast drank, nor deed, till it be done:
Too confident, alas, is youth! too high it's hopes ascend
The weapon is by battle tried; — misfortunes try a friend.

" Trust not the ice one night hath form'd, nor spring's fast melting snow;
Trust not the wily serpent's sleep, nor fragile woman's vow
For woman's breast is like the stone that rolls from mountains high,
Oft changing in its rapid course, — then trust not woman's sigh.

" And ne'er forget that thou thyself, and all thou hast, must die;
But one thing will survive the tomb, where thy remains must lie, —
'Tis the renown thou'lt leave behind on this vast peopled earth
Oh! may no deed of thine, my son, disgrace thy noble birth. "

Thus Thorsten his last counsel gave in Bele's lofty hall,
And oft the scalds his sage advice repeat in th'Havamal:
From race to race, hath been retold each wise and prudent word,
Which, from the bottom of the tomb, can even yet be heard.

The two old men then kindly spoke of each long vanish'd time,
And of their friendship, far renown'd in every northern clime:
They said, like hands together join'd, 'twould be their glory still,
Unchang'd in life, unchang'd in death, to share all good or ill.

" For back to back we ever stood, while raged the battle's heat;
A buckler thus from either side could each fierce blow defeat:
Now we shall reach Valhalla first oh children all, farewell!
But may our spirits from above amongst ye ever dwell! "

The monarch much of Frithiof spoke, and loudly praised his worth,
And said, a brave heroic soul was nobler far than birth.
And Thorsten dwelt upon the crown, and more illustrious fame
Of mighty northern kings, who bear of Asas' sons the name.

" And if, oh three beloved youths, united firm ye be,
Your conqueror, on northern ground, no man shall ever see.
Whenever force doth lend it's hand the royal power to wield,
'Tis like the band of polish'd steel around the golden shield.

" And now salute my daughter fair, that rose that blooms so sweet, —
Her days have in retirement past, as for her sex is meet:
Oh! watch the maid with deepest care, and let no storm, I pray,
Destroy this tender, blushing flower, just opening to the day.

" Helge, — a father's sacred right I trust to thee alone;
Oh! cherish my lov'd Ingeborg, as if she were thine own
For harshness ever must revolt a noble, generous mind,
And nought to honor's path can lead but counsels sage and kind.

" Now, children, place our mortal spoils in tombs exposed to view:
And let us there together lie beside yon wave so blue:
For even ghosts behold with joy their monumental ground,
And like a drapa (I) still from thence will echo's voice rebound.

" And when the moon her pale light sheds on mountain, wood, and fen,
And when the dews of night descend upon our bautasten,
Oh! then upon our tombs we'll sit, and on the ocean gaze,
And listen to the foaming surge, and talk of other days.

" And now, farewell, beloved youths! for we must now depart;
'Tis to Alfader we repair; this thought consoles my heart:
For we are like the weary streams that speed to ocean's wave: —
Frey, Thor, and Odin bless our sons, and smile upon our grave!