A fire-sea billows in Balder's grove,
Strandless breaks and hisses,
The sun is up, but bay and cove
Mirror flaming abysses.

Soon in smoldering ashes lay
Grove and temple's adorning;
Sadly then Fridthjof turned away,--
Wept in the light of morning.




XIV.

FRIDTHJOF GOES INTO EXILE


On deck at night
In summer bright,
Sat Fridthjof grieving;
Like billows heaving,
Now wrath, now grief,
In his heart was chief;
And shoreward turning
Saw fires still burning.

"Thou temple reek
Fly up and seek
High Valhal's towers;