And holy recollections through domes are straying.

"The evening steals upon me," king Bele said,
"The helmet now is heavy, and stale the mead;
The fate of man grows darker, but all the clearer
High Valhal shines before me, as death draws nearer.

"My sons I here have summoned, and Thorstein's son
For they should cling together, as we have done;
But I would give the eaglets some words of warning--
Words may in death be sleeping ere dawns the morning."

Obedient to the mandate, the three advance--
First, Helge, dark and gloomy, with sullen glance;
He dwelt amid diviners; the hand he proffered
Was red with blood of victims, on altars offered.

The next who came was Halfdan, a light-haired swain:
His countenance was noble, but weak and vain;
He gaily bore a falchion, with which he gestured,
And seemed a youthful maiden, in armor vestured.

And after them came Fridthjof, in mantle blue;
He was stronger than the others, and taller, too;
He stood between the brothers, by contrast seeming
Like noon 'twixt night and morning, in splendor beaming.

"Ye sons," the king said gently, "my son goes down;
Together rule the kingdom and take the crown;
For unity is power, and no endeavor,