Poems by the Way Love Is Enough | Page 3

silent
from now henceforth.
Clear and loud his voice outrang,
And a song
of worth at the wedding he sang.
"Sharp sword," he sang, "and death
is sure."
So many times over comes summer again,
"But love doth
over all endure."
What healing in summer if winter be vain?
Now winter cometh and weareth away,
So many times over comes
summer again,
And glad is Hallbiorn many a day.
What healing in
summer if winter be vain?
Full soft he lay his love beside;
But dark
are the days of winter-tide.
Dark are the days, and the nights are long,

And sweet and fair was Snæbiorn's song.
Many a time he talked
with her,
Till they deemed the summer-tide was there.
And they
forgat the wind-swept ways
And angry fords of the flitting-days.

While the north wind swept the hillside there
They forgat the other
Whitewater.
While nights at Deildar-Tongue were long,
They clean
forgat the Brothers'-Tongue.
But whatso falleth 'twixt Hell and Home,

So many times over comes summer again,
Full surely again shall
summer come.
What healing in summer if winter be vain?
To Odd spake Hallbiorn on a day
So many times over comes summer
again,
"Gone is the snow from everyway."
What healing in summer
if winter be vain?
"Now green is grown Whitewater-side,
And I to
Whitewater will ride."
Quoth Odd, "Well fare thou winter-guest,

May thine own Whitewater be best
Well is a man's purse better at
home
Than open where folk go and come."
"Come ye carles of the
south country,
Now shall we go our kin to see!
For the lambs are
bleating in the south,
And the salmon swims towards Olfus mouth,

Girth and graithe and gather your gear!
And ho for the other
Whitewater!"
Bright was the moon as bright might be,
And

Snæbiorn rode to the north country.
And Odd to Reykholt is gone
forth,
To see if his mares be ought of worth.
But Hallbiorn into the
bower is gone
And there sat Hallgerd all alone.
She was not dight to
go nor ride,
She had no joy of the summer-tide.
Silent she sat and
combed her hair,
That fell all round about her there.
The slant beam
lay upon her head,
And gilt her golden locks to red.
He gazed at her
with hungry eyes
And fluttering did his heart arise.
"Full hot," he
said, "is the sun to-day,
And the snow is gone from the mountain-way

The king-cup grows above the grass,
And through the wood do the
thrushes pass."
Of all his words she hearkened none,
But combed
her hair amidst the sun.
"The laden beasts stand in the garth
And
their heads are turned to Helliskarth."
The sun was falling on her knee,

And she combed her gold hair silently.
"To-morrow great will be
the cheer
At the Brothers'-Tongue by Whitewater."
From her folded
lap the sunbeam slid;
She combed her hair, and the word she hid.

"Come, love; is the way so long and drear
From Whitewater to
Whitewater?"
The sunbeam lay upon the floor;
She combed her hair
and spake no more.
He drew her by the lily hand:
"I love thee better
than all the land."
He drew her by the shoulders sweet:
"My
threshold is but for thy feet."
He drew her by the yellow hair:
"O
why wert thou so deadly fair?
O am I wedded to death?" he cried,

"Is the Dead-strand come to Whitewater side?"
And the sun was
fading from the room,
But her eyes were bright in the change and the
gloom.

"Sharp sword," she sang, "and death is sure,
But over all
doth love endure."
She stood up shining in her place
And laughed
beneath his deadly face.
Instead of the sunbeam gleamed a brand,

The hilts were hard in Hallbiorn's hand:
The bitter point was in
Hallgerd's breast
That Snæbiorn's lips of love had pressed.
Morn
and noon, and nones passed o'er,
And the sun is far from the bower
door.
To-morrow morn shall the sun come back,
So many times
over comes summer again,
But Hallgerd's feet the floor shall lack.

What healing in summer if winter be vain?

Now Hallbiorn's house-carles ride full fast,
So many times over comes
summer again,
Till many a mile of way is past.
What healing in
summer if winter be vain?
But when they came over Oxridges,

'Twas, "Where shall we give our horses ease?"
When
Shieldbroad-side was well in sight,
'Twas, "Where shall we lay our
heads to-night?"
Hallbiorn turned and raised his head;
"Under the
stones of the waste," he said.
Quoth one, "The clatter of hoofs anigh."

Quoth the other, "Spears against the sky!"
"Hither ride men from
the Wells apace;
Spur we fast to a kindlier place."
Down from his
horse leapt Hallbiorn straight:
"Why should the supper of Odin wait?

Weary and chased I will not come
To the table of my fathers'
home."
With that came Snæbiorn, who but he,
And twelve in all
was his company.
Snæbiorn's folk were on their feet;
He spake no
word as they did meet.
They fought upon the northern hill:
Five are
the howes men see there still.
Three men of Snæbiorn's fell to earth

And Hallbiorn's twain that were of worth.
And never a word did
Snæbiorn say,
Till Hallbiorn's foot he smote away.
Then Hallbiorn
cried: "Come, fellow of mine,
To the southern bent where the sun
doth shine."
Tottering into the sun he went,
And slew two more
upon the bent.
And on the bent where dead he lay
Three