And left his body stretched upon the floor. And on their golden chairs they sate again, Beside the tables, in the hall of heaven; And before each the cooks who served them placed New messes of the boar Serimner’s flesh, And the Valkyries crowned their horns with mead. So they, with pent-up hearts and tearless eyes, Wailing no more, in silence ate and drank, While twilight fell, and sacred night came on. But the blind Hoder left the feasting gods In Odin’s hall, and went through Asgard streets, And past the haven where the gods have moored Their ships, and through the gate, beyond the wall; Though sightless, yet his own mind led the god. Down to the margin of the roaring sea He came, and sadly went along the sand, Between the waves and black o’erhanging cliffs Where in and out the screaming seafowl fly; Until he came to where a gully breaks Through the cliff-wall, and a fresh stream runs down From the high moors behind, and meets the sea. There, in the glen, Fensaler stands, the house Of Frea, honored mother of the gods, And shows its lighted windows to the main. There he went up, and passed the open doors; And in the hall he found those women old, The prophetesses, who by rite eterne On Frea’s hearth feed high the sacred fire Both night and day; and by the inner wall Upon her golden chair the mother sate, With folded hands, revolving things to come. To her drew Hoder near, and spake, and said,-- “Mother, a child of bale thou bar’st in me! For, first, thou barest me with blinded eyes, Sightless and helpless, wandering weak in heaven; And, after that, of ignorant witless mind Thou barest me, and unforeseeing soul; That I alone must take the branch from Lok, The foe, the accuser, whom, though gods, we hate, And cast it at the dear-loved Balder’s breast, At whom the gods in sport their weapons threw. ’Gainst that alone had Balder’s life no charm. Now therefore what to attempt, or whither fly, For who will bear my hateful sight in heaven? Can I, O mother, bring them Balder back? Or--for thou know’st the fates, and things allowed-- Can I with Hela’s power a compact strike, And make exchange, and give my life for his?” He spoke: the mother of the gods replied,-- “Hoder, ill-fated, child of bale, my son, Sightless in soul and eye, what words are these? That one, long portioned with his doom of death, Should change his lot, and fill another’s life, And Hela yield to this, and let him go! On Balder, Death hath laid her hand, not thee; Nor doth she count this life a price for that. For many gods in heaven, not thou alone, Would freely die to purchase Balder back, And wend themselves to Hela’s gloomy realm. For not so gladsome is that life in heaven Which gods and heroes lead, in feast and fray,