The robes like rain wind-blown,
And as it fled it clasp’d a naked child
Unto its cold breast-bone.
And Balder clutch’d its robe with fingers weak
To stay it as it flew—
A breath of ice blew chill upon his cheek,
Blinding his eyes of blue.
’Twas Death! ’twas gone!—All night the shepherds sped,
Searching the hills in fear;
At dawn they found their lost one lying dead