The House of the Wolfings | Page 9

rise and my might is with me, and fills my heart with mirth, As I think of the praise of the people; and all this joy I win By the deeds that my heart commandeth and the hope that lieth therein."
"Yea," she said, "but day runneth ever on the heels of day, and there are many and many days; and betwixt them do they carry eld."
"Yet art thou no older than in days bygone," said he. "Is it so, O Daughter of the Gods, that thou wert never born, but wert from before the framing of the mountains, from the beginning of all things?"
But she said:
"Nay, nay; I began, I was born; although it may be indeed That not on the hills of the earth I sprang from the godhead's seed. And e'en as my birth and my waxing shall be my waning and end. But thou on many an errand, to many a field dost wend Where the bow at adventure bended, or the fleeing dastard's spear Oft lulleth the mirth of the mighty. Now me thou dost not fear, Yet fear with me, beloved, for the mighty Maid I fear; And Doom is her name, and full often she maketh me afraid And even now meseemeth on my life her hand is laid."
But he laughed and said:
"In what land is she abiding? Is she near or far away? Will she draw up close beside me in the press of the battle play? And if then I may not smite her 'midst the warriors of the field With the pale blade of my fathers, will she bide the shove of my shield?"
But sadly she sang in answer:
"In many a stead Doom dwelleth, nor sleepeth day nor night: The rim of the bowl she kisseth, and beareth the chambering light When the kings of men wend happy to the bride-bed from the board. It is little to say that she wendeth the edge of the grinded sword, When about the house half builded she hangeth many a day; The ship from the strand she shoveth, and on his wonted way By the mountain-hunter fareth where his foot ne'er failed before: She is where the high bank crumbles at last on the river's shore: The mower's scythe she whetteth; and lulleth the shepherd to sleep Where the deadly ling-worm wakeneth in the desert of the sheep. Now we that come of the God-kin of her redes for ourselves we wot, But her will with the lives of men-folk and their ending know we not. So therefore I bid thee not fear for thyself of Doom and her deed, But for me: and I bid thee hearken to the helping of my need. Or else--Art thou happy in life, or lusteth thou to die In the flower of thy days, when thy glory and thy longing bloom on high?"
But Thiodolf answered her:
"I have deemed, and long have I deemed that this is my second life, That my first one waned with my wounding when thou cam'st to the ring of strife. For when in thine arms I wakened on the hazelled field of yore, Meseemed I had newly arisen to a world I knew no more, So much had all things brightened on that dewy dawn of day. It was dark dull death that I looked for when my thought had died away. It was lovely life that I woke to; and from that day henceforth My joy of the life of man-folk was manifolded of worth. Far fairer the fields of the morning than I had known them erst, And the acres where I wended, and the corn with its half-slaked thirst; And the noble Roof of the Wolfings, and the hawks that sat thereon; And the bodies of my kindred whose deliverance I had won; And the glimmering of the Hall-Sun in the dusky house of old; And my name in the mouth of the maidens, and the praises of the bold, As I sat in my battle-raiment, and the ruddy spear well steeled Leaned 'gainst my side war-battered, and the wounds thine hand had healed. Yea, from that morn thenceforward has my life been good indeed, The gain of to-day was goodly, and good to-morrow's need, And good the whirl of the battle, and the broil I wielded there, Till I fashioned the ordered onset, and the unhoped victory fair. And good were the days thereafter of utter deedless rest And the prattle of thy daughter, and her hands on my unmailed breast. Ah good is the life thou hast given, the life that mine hands have won. And where shall be the ending till the world is all undone? Here sit we twain together, and both we in Godhead clad, We twain of the Wolfing kindred, and each