Fridthjof's Saga, by Esaias Tegnér


Ring’s Drapa.

Sepultured sits he,

Sovereign descended,

Battle sword by him,

Buckler on arm;

Chafes his good charger

Champing impatient,

Pawing with gold-hoof

The gate of the grave.

Ring, great in riches,

Rideth o’er Bifrost;

Bends with its burden,

Bridge of the gods.

Wide for his welcome

Valhal it opens,

Hands to the hero

Heaven extends.

Absent is Asa–Thor,

Active in warfare.

Beckoned by Odin

The beaker is brought;

Frey the king graces

With garlands of grain-ears,

Blossoms the bluest

Binds Frigg therein.

Graspeth the gold-string,

Gray-bearded Brage,

Stiller now sigheth

The song than before;

Freyja the faithful,

Fondly reclining.

Bends o’er the board and

Burneth to hear.

“Sing high the smiting

Of sword upon helmet,

Boisterous billows,

Bloody for aye;

Power, the gift of

Gods ever gracious,

Bitter as berserk

Biting the shield.

“Hence was the hero-king,

Heaven-born dear to us,

Showing his shield

A shelter for peace.

Power’s embodiment

Plainly impersonate,

Soared like a sacrifice-Smoke to the sky.

“Words full of wisdom

Wise Odin chooseth

Sitting with Saga

Sokvabek’s maid.

Such, too, the saying

Spoke by the monarch,

Fair as of Mimer

Flows the clear fount.

“Forsete faithful

All feuds adjusteth,

Sitting serenely

By the side of Urd’s spring;

Thus high enthroned

Thou, king beloved,

Potently pleadest

For peace in the land.

“Niggard in nothing,

Near and far strewed he

Beauty and blessing,

Bought with his gold;

Gave he most gladly

Guerdon unstinted,

Sadness he solaced,

Suffering relieved.

“Welcome, thou wisest

Winner of Valhal!

Long thou’lt be lauded,

Loved of the North.

Brage, the bearded,

Bears thee the mead-horn,

Favored of fortune,

Friend from below.”

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:00