“Cursing my limbs of lead, Death’s icy hand took hold
Of my heart; the stars went out; thus, thus my tale was told!
“I stood, a naked soul; ’tis strange and still, I trow,
When the heart has ceased to beat, and the blood has ceased to flow.
“Ay, strange to the shuddering soul, when the heart has ceased to beat,
And it sees the wan corse lie, unheeding at its feet!—
“I hear a rush in the firs, a rush as of hastening horse—
Like the forelocks of fiery steeds the branches waver and toss.
“See, see where Odin’s war-maids to choose the dead draw nigh!
They come with the shout o’ the storm along the scurrying sky.
“See where their lucent spears, like shafts of wan moonlight,
Pierce from the height of the heavens, lay bare the heart of night!
“See, see where Bifrost Bridge arches from cloud to cloud,
Built of the gleaming rainbow! See the exulting crowd.
“Of the heroes that shouting cross to feast in high Valhall,
Where the Maids pour the Æsir-mead to glad their souls withal!
“And I—I strained and strove” (and the voice grew shrill and thin;
Like to the shuddering harp was the soul of Herluin).
“But the Maids were drifting clouds, and the Bridge that spanned the skies
Was the glint of the mocking moon on the tears that filled mine eyes.