the legend of skadi.
27
That surge through the forest, and whisper, and rave;—
'T is Njörd, who is calling her back to the wave.
'T is Njörd, who is calling her back to the wave.
And Njörd hears a hill-note borne in on the tide,
When soft through the sunset the lazy waves glide,
Or tranced in the moonlight the weird water shines;—
'T is Skadi, whose singing floats down from her pines.
When soft through the sunset the lazy waves glide,
Or tranced in the moonlight the weird water shines;—
'T is Skadi, whose singing floats down from her pines.
He calls, but she leaves not her rock-ranges free;
She chants from her woodlands; he stays by the sea:
A wail thrills the harp-strings of heart lost to heart,
Neither happy together, nor joyous apart.
She chants from her woodlands; he stays by the sea:
A wail thrills the harp-strings of heart lost to heart,
Neither happy together, nor joyous apart.
Of sea-god and hill-maid remains not a sign,
Save the marriage of music in billow and pine.
Still sound the Norse mountains, the tide in the fiord
With the singing of Skadi, the echo of Njörd.
Save the marriage of music in billow and pine.
Still sound the Norse mountains, the tide in the fiord
With the singing of Skadi, the echo of Njörd.
