His arm about the pale ghost cast,
The warrior blew a clear, loud blast;
Like frighten'd wolves the mists fled past.
Grew firm the way; worlds flame to light
The awful peak that thrusts its height,
With swift throbs upward, like a flight.
Of arrows from a host close set
Long meteors pierc'd its breast of jet—
Again the trump his strong lips met—
And at its blast blew all the day,
In broad winds on the awful Way;
Sun smote at Sun across the grey;
As reindeer smite the high-pil'd snow
To find the green moss far below—
They struck the mists thro' which did glow
Bright vales—and on a sea afar,
Lay at a sunlit harbour bar,
A galley gold-sail'd like a star!
Spake the pale ghost as onward sped
Heart-press'd to heart the valiant dead;
Soft the green paths beneath their tread.
"I lov'd, this is my tale, and died—
The fierce chief hunger'd for my bride—
The spear of Gisli pierc'd my side!
"And she—her love fill'd all my need—
Her vows were sweet and strong as mead;
Look, father—doth my heart still bleed?
"I built her round with shaft and spear,
I kept her mine for one brief year—
She laugh'd above my blood stain'd bier!