When ye enough have wept, then build a pile Of the heaped wood, and burn his corpse with fire Out of our sight; that we may turn from grief, And lead, as erst, our daily life in heaven.” He spoke, and the gods armed; and Odin donned His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold, And led the way on Sleipner; and the rest Followed, in tears, their father and their king. And thrice in arms around the dead they rode, Weeping; the sands were wetted, and their arms, With their thick-falling tears,--so good a friend They mourned that day, so bright, so loved a god. And Odin came, and laid his kingly hands On Balder’s breast, and thus began the wail:-- “Farewell, O Balder, bright and loved, my son! In that great day, the twilight of the gods, When Muspel’s children shall beleaguer heaven, Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm.” Thou camest near the next, O warrior Thor! Shouldering thy hammer, in thy chariot drawn, Swaying the long-haired goats with silvered rein; And over Balder’s corpse these words didst say:-- “Brother, thou dwellest in the darksome land, And talkest with the feeble tribes of ghosts, Now, and I know not how they prize thee there-- But here, I know, thou wilt be missed and mourned. For haughty spirits and high wraths are rife Among the gods and heroes here in heaven, As among those whose joy and work is war; And daily strifes arise, and angry words. But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day, Heard no one ever an injurious word To god or hero, but thou keptest back The others, laboring to compose their brawls. Be ye then kind, as Balder too was kind! For we lose him, who smoothed all strife in heaven.” He spake, and all the gods assenting wailed. And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears; The loveliest goddess she in heaven, by all Most honored after Frea, Odin’s wife. Her long ago the wandering Oder took To mate, but left her to roam distant lands; Since then she seeks him, and weeps tears of gold. Names hath she many; Vanadis on earth They call her, Freya is her name in heaven; She in her hands took Balder’s head, and spake,-- “Balder, my brother, thou art gone a road Unknown and long, and haply on that way My long-lost wandering Oder thou hast met, For in the paths of heaven he is not found. Oh! if it be so, tell him what thou wast To his neglected wife, and what he is, And wring his heart with shame, to hear thy word! For he, my husband, left me here to pine, Not long a wife, when his unquiet heart First drove him from me into distant lands; Since then I vainly seek him through the world, And weep from shore to shore my golden tears, But neither god nor mortal heeds my pain. Thou only, Balder, wast forever kind, To take my hand, and wipe my tears, and say,--