Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/166

⁠He spoke; but Hoder answered him, and said,—
"Hermod the nimble, dost thou still pursue
The unhappy with reproach, even in the grave?
For this I died, and fled beneath the gloom,
Not daily to endure abhorring gods,
Nor with a hateful presence cumber heaven;
And canst thou not, even here, pass pitying by?
No less than Balder have I lost the light
Of heaven, and communion with my kin;
I too had once a wife, and once a child,
And substance, and a golden house in heaven:
But all I left of my own act, and fled
Below; and dost thou hate me even here?
Balder upbraids me not, nor hates at all,
Though he has cause, have any cause; but he,
When that with downcast looks I hither came,
Stretched forth his hand, and with benignant voice,
Welcome, he said, if there be welcome here,
Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me!
And not to offend thee, Hermod, nor to force
My hated converse on thee, came I up
From the deep gloom, where I will now return;
But earnestly I longed to hover near,
Not too far off, when that thou camest by;
To feel the presence of a brother god,
And hear the passage of a horse of heaven,
For the last time—for here thou com'st no more."
⁠He spake, and turned to go to the inner gloom.
But Hermod stayed him with mild words, and said,—
⁠"Thou doest well to chide me, Hoder blind!
Truly thou say'st, the planning guilty mind
Was Lok's: the unwitting hand alone was thine.
But gods are like the sons of men in this:

When they have woe, they blame the nearest cause.