*

(Skirnir Trying to Persuade Gerd to Marry Frey by Patten Wilson)

 

 

I.

*

From this high throne, o’er the nine realms

Roam my eyes and roams my longing

For that one viewed oft in visions,

For a giant-maiden gleaming –

 

Restless ’cross the worlds now wanders

Heart of mine that springs and flutters,

Ever settling on that maiden,

E’er on her of arms that dazzle –

 

Hall of blocks and hall of spirals

Orange and blue and gold and crimson!

In it dwells my damsel sitting,

In it dwells my lolling leman –

 

On a harp she’s strumming dark notes,

And a music wild she calls forth;

Every song is madding dream-notes,

Every song in slumber haunts me –

 

Like the ice-shelf in morn’s first light

Bright and glist’ring glares her fair form;

Ride, oh Skirnir, ride to woo her,

Ride thy horse through fire and dark fell –

 

Take my sword, oh take and race swift!

Take the blade that every foe slays,

Sailing o’er the field of battle;

Take my sword that thou mightst woo her –

 

Golden apples take thou also:

Twelve less one; and also Draupnir,

Ring that drips eight more just like it

Every ninth night, every ninth night –

 

Sing of passion, sing of heartache,

Sing of how her notes bewitch me!

Halt thou never in thy journey;

Turn not back from fire and dark fell –

 

Like the elf-beam, like the pink dawn

Winking o’er the rim of mid-earth,

May this love of mine swift melt her,

May she yield to me her fair love –

 

Ride and race! A thousand angels

Swirl and scatter round my temples:

Men with wings and women also

With the wings of birds and dragons –

 

Run, and race! Race faster, Skirnir,

’Cross the wilds and heaths of mid-earth,

’Cross the lands where flames are roaring,

Past the caves where trolls are dancing –

 

Wilds of dark, and depths and vast tracts,

Canyons and the raging cloud-forms:

Ring and echo o’er these vast lands

Notes that on her harp-strings tremble –

 

Madness is the wild horizon

Where the rainstorms growl and grumble:

Madness-music from that loved one

Hiding from me in her dark hall!

 

 

II.

 

Hail, oh Skirnir! Thou returnest;

What reply gave gorgeous maiden?

Quickly tell me, tell me quickly,

All in frenzy writhes my longing –

 

“Joy, oh Ingvi! Glad my tidings:

Gerd hath ta’en the sharp sword from ye –

Sword that flies like bird in battle,

Slaying foe-man, slaying cruel men –

 

“Through the damp lands, through the rain-lands

Passed I with my cowl drawn o’er me;

And the world stretched vast and frightening,

Like a cavern with no ceiling –

 

“Wet sky was a leaky hall-roof,

And the water swirled in rain-pools.

Far sat Gerd, and hidden, secret,

In her hall of blocks and spirals –

 

“On a hill now stood a shepherd,

And his peaceful sheep browsed by him.

Iron rod kept he in one hand,

And a gate kept he against me –

 

“Gymir is my giant master,

Spake that shepherd. He is sleeping

In his hall called Fortress Dreadful,

In his hall by flames surrounded –

 

“Gerd his daughter sleepeth also,

Spake that shepherd. Have the Nornies

Marked thee for thy death? Or art thou

Dead already? Tell me, tell me –

 

“Spake I to that guarding shepherd:

Dead I’m not, and die I shall not,

If the Nornies still me favor,

If my doom’s still far and secret –

 

“Frey’s my master, and he wishes

Gerd to woo, the comely daughter

Gymir keeps within this curtain

Flaming, sparking, that I fear not –

 

“And o’er fire fast I bounded

On my steed as shepherd hollered;

And the sound of horse-hoofs clopping

Waked the maiden from her slumber –

 

“Three dogs yapped and made a racket

At the porch of Fortress Dreadful;

But thy sword I pulled from scabbard,

And the hounds did hush to view it –

 

“Gymir too was waked by hoof-stamps;

And down passage came he storming:

Who approaches my harsh bastion?

Who doth wish his death this morning?

 

“Daughter too came racing, racing,

As her father club did flourish;

Father, father, spake she, calm thee,

Let the rider speak his purpose –

 

“And then spake I to the giant 

And his daughter white and glist’ring:

From the golden mead-hall shimm’ring,

From the magic plains of elf-land,

 

“Ride I, servant of the spring-god,

Messenger of prince of elf-folk,

For to plead the hand of daughter

With the arms that glow like snowdrifts –

 

“White’s her skin, as white as winter

Ere Sol’s rays set rime a-weeping –

White as milk from milk-cow’s udder,

Sweet as pure cream, virgin-gorgeous –

 

“Apples golden, ten and one more,

Spill I from my purse to woo her:

Apples that give youth to eater –

Wondrous bride-price; what saith daughter?

 

“And the giantess of rime-frost

Cold, aloof, and chill and glist’ring,

Turned her nose up: Youth forever

Have I in this hall of spirals –

 

“Nothing woos me Frey’s first present!

Twice more speak thou for thy master;

But if nothing charms my fancy,

Be thou off, and ne’er return here –

 

“So to haughty damsel showed I

Ring was forged by Brokk and Sindri;

From my hand took I the gold cirque:

See, oh maiden, what this band births –

 

“And eight rings did fall before me,

Eight rings shining like their mother;

But the damsel turned her nose up,

And spake she with chilly hauteur:

 

“Wealth have I enough in Fortress

Dreadful, that my father gives me.

One chance more hast thou to woo me,

One chance last to serve thy master –

 

“So unsheathed I thy dread sword-blade,

And spoke I to rime-cold maiden:

See, oh damsel, what Frey gifts thee,

If thou choosest him as husband –

 

“Sword that swings through field of battle,

Swords that flies and slices foe-man,

Never falt’ring, never failing,

Wounding, maiming, striking, slaying –

 

“Hardly gift in all Valhalla,

Hardly gift amongst the fair folk

Precious more, to you might offer

One of elves or one of Aesir –

 

“So how doth the maiden answer,

Maiden beauteous as Freyja?

Force of Frey and slaying power

Doth he yield to willing leman –

 

“But the chilly giant-damsel

Still her nose turned up and answered:

Naught wish I to kill or capture;

No sword suits my need or purpose –

 

“So return again to master

Waiting for thee in his elf-hall!

Father, shut the gate, and let us

Fall again to sleep delicious –

 

“And the door began to swing shut,

And I knew might lose forever

Spring-god his white-dazzling beauty –

So thy sword threw I, and shattered

 

“Skull-bone of her giant-father;

Then fell he like weight of snowdrift

Slumping off a bluff o’erhanging –

And his daughter wept upon him!

 

 

III.

 

“Long I waited at that threshold

As the dark passed o’er, then brightened,

As the maiden’s tears did lessen,

As the flames subsided lower –

 

“And at last to me spoke damsel:

Three nights past tonight, I’ll meet him

For whom thou hast wooed and pleaded,

For whom thou hast slain my father –

 

“In a far wood they call Barri,

Where the owl hoots oft and lonesome,

Where the hermit keeps his counsel,

There in three nights’ time I’ll meet him –

 

“Tell thy master, ride now from me,

Let me mourn in silence awful.

Thou hast pled thy suit with vigor,

And a poor weak wight hast conquered –

 

“So I left her, and with pity

Did I lay thy sword beside her,

By the corpse of her dead father,

By the puddle of her poor tears.”

 

 

IV.

 

Long is one night, longer two nights;

How shall three be suffered by me?

Oft a moon-life hath seemed less long

Than this span that I must suffer –

 

Gerda, thou shalt come to wed me!

In the wood that they call Barri,

Where the owl hoots oft and lonesome,

Where the hermit keeps his counsel –

 

Dress shall weave thee, raiment knit thee

Fairy-folk that heed my orders;

And a nuptial in the evening

Shall we hold in far-off forest –

 

Elfin folk shall hold thy train up,

And my servants bear my cloak up,

When we wed in Barri forest,

Where the night-wind’s chill and lonesome.