_Weep not, O Freya, weep no golden tears!_ _One day the wandering Oder will return,_ _Or thou wilt find him in thy faithful search,_ _On some great road, or resting in an inn,_ _Or at a ford, or sleeping by a tree_. So Balder said; but Oder, well I know, My truant Oder I shall see no more To the world’s end; and Balder now is gone, And I am left uncomforted in heaven.” She spake, and all the goddesses bewailed. Last from among the heroes one came near, No god, but of the hero-troop the chief,-- Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets, And ruled o’er Denmark and the heathy isles, Living; but Ella captured him and slew,-- A king, whose fame then filled the vast of heaven: Now time obscures it, and men’s later deeds. He last approached the corpse, and spake and said,-- “Balder, there yet are many scalds in heaven Still left, and that chief scald, thy brother Brage, Whom we may bid to sing, though thou art gone. And all these gladly, while we drink, we hear, After the feast is done, in Odin’s hall; But they harp ever on one string, and wake Remembrance in our soul of wars alone, Such as on earth we valiantly have waged, And blood, and ringing blows, and violent death. But when thou sangest, Balder, thou didst strike Another note, and, like a bird in spring, Thy voice of joyance minded us, and youth, And wife, and children, and our ancient home. Yes, and I too remembered then no more My dungeon, where the serpents stung me dead, Nor Ella’s victory on the English coast; But I heard Thora laugh in Gothland Isle, And saw my shepherdess, Aslauga, tend Her flock along the white Norwegian beach. Tears started to mine eyes with yearning joy. Therefore with grateful heart I mourn thee dead.” So Regner spake, and all the heroes groaned. But now the sun had passed the height of heaven, And soon had all that day been spent in wail; But then the Father of the ages said,-- “Ye gods, there well may be too much of wail! Bring now the gathered wood to Balder’s ship; Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre.” But when the gods and heroes heard, they brought The wood to Balder’s ship, and built a pile, Full the deck’s breadth, and lofty; then the corpse Of Balder on the highest top they laid, With Nanna on his right, and on his left Hoder, his brother, whom his own hand slew. And they set jars of wine and oil to lean Against the bodies, and stuck torches near, Splinters of pine-wood, soaked with turpentine; And brought his arms and gold, and all his stuff, And slew the dogs who at his table fed, And his horse, Balder’s horse, whom most he loved, And threw them on the pyre; and Odin threw A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring. The mast they fixed, and hoisted up the sails;