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Wait not to find thy slippers,

But come with thy naked feet:

We shall have to pass through the dewy grass,
And waters wide and fleet.

FRITHIOF'S HOMESTEAD.

FROM THE SWEDISH.

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 down-sloping

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 green

sward

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, fast-fettered 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 holmoak,

Polished and white, as of steel; the columns twain of the

high-seat

Stood at the end thereof, two gods carved out of an elm

tree;

Odin with lordly look, and Frey with the sun

frontlet.

on his

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. Hush sat the listening bench, and their glances hung on the gray beard's

Lips, as a bee on the rose; but the Skald 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
Ever-murmuring wave, himself a living tradition.

Mid-way the floor (with thatch was it strewn), burned forever the fire-flame

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 banquet

hall 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

reflection

Blushed too, even as she ;-this gladdened the hard-drinking champions.

FRITHIOF'S TEMPTATION.

FROM THE SWEDISH.

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. Now will hunt the ancient monarch, and the queen shall join the sport;

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, 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

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Then threw Frithiof down his mantle, and upon the green

sward spread,

And the ancient king so trustful laid on Frithiof's knees his head;

Slept, as calmly as the hero sleepeth after war's alarms

On his shield, calm as an infant sleepeth in its mother's

arms.

As he slumbers, hark! there sings a coal-black bird upon a bough:

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Hasten, Frithiof, slay the old man, close 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."

Frithiof listens; hark! there sings a snow-white bird upon

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the bough:

'Though no human eye beholds thee, Odin's eye beholds thee now.

Coward, wilt thou murder slumber? a defenceless old man

slay ?

Whatsoe'er thou winn'st, thou canst not win a hero's fame this way."

Thus the two wood-birds did warble; Frithiof took his warsword 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,

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;

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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?"

"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."

SILENT LOVE.

FROM THE GERMAN.

WHO love would seek,

Let him love evermore

And seldom speak:

For in love's domain
Silence must reign;
Or it brings the heart
Smart

And pain.

CHILDHOOD.

FROM THE DANISH,

THERE was a time when I was very small,
When my whole frame was but an ell in height,
Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do fall,

And therefore I recall it with delight.

I sported in my tender mother's arms,

And rode a-horse-back on best father's knee; Alike were sorrows, passions, and alarms,

And gold, and Greek, and love, unknown to me.

Then seemed to me this world far less in size,
Likewise it seemed to me less wicked far;
Like points in heaven, I saw the stars arise,
And longed for wings that I might catch a star.

I saw the moon behind the island fade,

And thought, "O, were I on that island there, I could find out of what the moon is made,

Find out how large it is, how round, how fair!"

Wondering, I saw God's sun, through western skies, Sink in the ocean's golden lap at night,

And yet upon the morrow early rise,

And paint the eastern heaven with crimson light;

And thought of God, the gracious Heavenly Father,
Who made me, and that lovely sun on high,
And all those pearls of heaven thick-strung together,
Dropped, clustering, from his hand o'er all the sky.

With childish reverence, my young lips did say
The prayer my pious mother taught to me:

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"O Gentle God! Ô, let me strive alway

Still to be wise, and good, and follow thee!"

So prayed I for my father and my mother,
And for my sister, and for all the town;
The king I knew not, and the beggar-brother,
Who, bent with age, went, sighing, up and down.

They perished, the blithe days of boyhood perished,
And all the gladness, all the peace I knew!
Now have I but their memory, fondly cherished;—
God! may I never, never lose that too!

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