great decrees, and the ancient mysteries of Fimbul-ty (the unknown God). There shall be found in the grass wonderful golden tables [dice or draughts], their own in days of yore. The fields unsown shall yield their increase. All sorrows shall be healed. Balder shall come back. Balder and Höᵭr shall dwell in Woden's mansions of bliss, in the holy places of the blessed Gods. . . . . Then shall Hœni choose the rods of divination aright, and the sons of the Twin-brethren shall inhabit the wide world of the winds. . . . . I see a hall, brighter than the sun, shingled with gold, standing on Gem-lea. The righteous shall dwell therein, and live in bliss for ever."
This, you will observe, is poetry of no mean order, and it takes the form of a prophecy about a golden age to come; in fact, one of the sibyls is made to resume silence with an allusion to the advent of the Messiah in words to the following effect:[1]
"Then there shall come One yet mightier,
Though I dare not name him.
There he hut few who can see further forward
Than the day when Woden shall meet the Wolf."
But, in my opinion, the pagan original which served as the basis of the lays of the chief sibyl was a nature myth descriptive of the conflict of the elements in winter and the re-appearance of the summer sun in the person of Balder, who is, however, accompanied by Höᵭr; for where the sun's light reaches, there darkness follows in its turn, bringing with it the alternation of day and night. But how, you will ask, came this Norse poetry to assume the form of prophecy? This the Irish story
- ↑ Vigfusson & Powell's Corpus, ij. 630.
