<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413292" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gisli: The Chieftain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Goddess Lada prayed<br>Gisli, holding high his spear<br>Bound with buds of spring, and laughed<br>All his heart to Lada's ear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Damp his yellow beard with mead,<br>Loud the harps clang'd thro the day;<br>With bruised breasts triumphant rode<br>Gisli's galleys in the bay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bards sang in the banquet hall,<br>Set in loud verse Gisli's fame,<br>On their lips the war gods laid<br>Fire to chaunt their warrior's name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli pray'd,<br>Buds upon his tall spear's tip;<br>Laughter in his broad blue eyes,<br>Laughter on his bearded lip.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Spring-queen Gisli pray'd,<br>She, with mystic distaff slim,<br>Spun her hours of love and leaves,<br>Made the stony headlands dim--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dim and green with tender grass,<br>Blew on ice-fields with red mouth;<br>Blew on lovers hearts; and lured<br>White swans from the blue-arched south.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli pray'd,<br>Groan'd far icebergs tall and blue<br>As to Lada's distaff slim,<br>All their ice-locked fires flew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli prayed,<br>She, with red hands, caught and spun.<br>Yellow flames from crater lips,<br>flames from the waking sun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli prayed,<br>She with loom and beam and spell,<br>All the subtle fires of earth<br>Wove, and wove them strong and well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Spring-queen Gisli prayed,<br>Low the sun the pale sky trod;<br>Mute her ruddy hand she raised<br>Beckon'd back the parting God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli prayed--<br>Weft and woof of flame she wove--<br>Lada, Goddess of the Spring!<br>Lada, Goddess strong of Love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sire of the strong chieftain's prayer,<br>Victory with his pulse of flame;<br>Mead its mother--loud he laughed,<br>Calling on great Lada's name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Goddess Lada--Queen of Love!<br>'Here stand I and quaff to thee--<br>'Deck for thee with buds my spear--<br>'Give a comely wife to me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Blow not to my arms a flake<br>'Of crisp snow in maiden guise;<br>'Mists of pallid hair and tips<br>'Of long ice-spears in her eyes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When my death-sail skims the foam--<br>'Strain my oars on Death's black sea--<br>'When my foot the 'Glass-Hill' seeks--<br>'Such a maid may do for me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now, O Lada, mate the flesh!<br>'Mate the fire and flame of life,<br>'Tho' the soul go still unwed,<br>'Give the flesh its fitting wife!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'As the galley runs between,<br>'Skies with billows closely spun:<br>'Feeling but the wave that leaps<br>'Closest to it in the sun.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Throbs but to the present kiss<br>'Of the wild lips of the sea;<br>'Thus a man joys in his life--<br>'Nought of the Beyond knows he!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Goddess! here I cast bright buds,<br>'Spicy pine boughs at thy feet;<br>'Give the flesh its fitting mate<br>'Life is strong and life is sweet!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To the Love-queen Gisli pray'd--<br>Weft and woof of flame she wove:<br>Lada, Goddess of the Spring--<br>Lada, Goddess strong of Love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>PART II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From harpings and sagas and mirth of the town,<br>Great Gisli, the chieftain strode merrily down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His ruddy beard stretch'd in the loom of the wind,<br>His shade like a dusky God striding behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gylfag, his true hound, to his heel glided near,<br>Sharp-fang'd, lank and red as a blood-rusted spear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As crests of the green bergs flame white in the sky,<br>The town on its sharp hill shone brightly and high.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In fjords roared the ice below the dumb stroke<br>Of the Sun's red hammer rose blue mist like smoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It clung to the black pines, and clung to the bay--<br>The galleys of Gisli grew ghosts of the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It followed the sharp wings of swans, as they rose--<br>It fell to the wide jaws of swift riven floes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It tam'd the wild shriek of the eagle--grew dull<br>The cries, in its foldings, of osprey and gull.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Arouse thee, bold wind,' shouted Gisli 'and drive<br>'Floe and Berg out to sea as bees from a hive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Chase this woman-lipped haze at top of thy speed,<br>'It cloys to the soul as the tongue cloys with mead!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Come, buckle thy sharp spear again to thy breast!<br>'Thy galley hurl forth from the seas of the West.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'With thy long, hissing oars, beat loud the north sea.<br>'The sharp gaze of day give the eagles and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'No cunning mists shrouding the sea and the sky,<br>'Or the brows of the great Gods, bold wind, love I!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'As Gylfag, my hound, lays his fangs in the flank<br>'Of a grey wolf, shadowy, leather-thew'd, lank.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Bold wind, chase the blue mist, thy prow in its hair,<br>'Sun, speed thy keen shafts thro' the breast of the air!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>PART III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The shouting of Gisli, the chieftain,<br>Rock'd the blue hazes, and cloven<br>In twain by sharp prow of the west wind,<br>To north and to south fled the thick mist.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As in burnish'd walls of Valhalla,<br>In cleft of the mist stood the chieftain,<br>And up to the blue shield of Heaven,<br>Flung the load shaft of his laughter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Smote the mist, with shrill spear the swift wind.<br>Grey shapes fled like ghosts on the Hell way;<br>Bay'd after their long locks hoarse Gylfag,<br>Stared at them, triumphant, the eagles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To mate and to eaglets, the eagle<br>Shriek'd, 'Gone is my foe of the deep mist,<br>'Rent by the vast hands of the kind Gods,<br>'Who knows the knife-pangs of our hunger!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shrill whistled the winds as his dun wings<br>Strove with it feather by feather;<br>Loud grated the rock as his talons<br>Its breast spurned slowly his red eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like fires seemed to flame in the swift wind,<br>At his sides the darts of his hunger--<br>At his ears the shriek of his eaglets--<br>In his breast the love of the quarry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unfurl'd to the northward and southward<br>His wings broke the air, and to eastward<br>His breast gave its iron; and God-ward<br>Pierc'd the shrill voice of his hunger.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bared were his great sides as he laboured<br>Up the first steep blue of the broad sky;<br>His gaze on the fields of his freedom,<br>To the God's spoke the prayers of his gyres.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bared were his vast sides as he glided<br>Black in the sharp blue of the north sky:<br>Black over the white of the tall cliffs,<br>Black over the arrow of Gisli.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>THE SONG OF THE ARROW.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What know I,<br>As I bite the blue veins of the throbbing sky;<br>To the quarry's breast<br>Hot from the sides of the sleek smooth nest?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What know I<br>Of the will of the tense bow from which I fly?<br>What the need or jest,<br>That feathers my flight to its bloody rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What know I<br>Of the will of the bow that speeds me on high?<br>What doth the shrill bow<br>Of the hand on its singing soul-string know?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Flame-swift speed I--<br>And the dove and the eagle shriek out and die;<br>Whence comes my sharp zest<br>For the heart of the quarry? the Gods know best.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Deep pierc'd the red gaze of the eagle--<br>The breast of a cygnet below him;<br>Beneath his dun wing from the eastward<br>Shrill-chaunted the long shaft of Gisli!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath his dun wing from the westward<br>Shook a shaft that laugh'd in its biting--<br>Met in the fierce breast of the eagle<br>The arrows of Gisli and Brynhild!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>PART IV:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A ghost along the Hell-way sped,<br>The Hell-shoes shod his misty tread;<br>A phantom hound beside him sped.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath the spandrils of the Way,<br>World's roll'd to-night--from night to day;<br>In space's ocean Suns were spray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Group'd world's, eternal eagles, flew;<br>Swift comets fell like noiseless dew,<br>Young earths slow budded in the blue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The waves of space inscrutable,<br>With awful pulses rose and fell--<br>Silent and godly--terrible.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Electric souls of strong Suns laid,<br>Strong hands along the awful shade<br>That God about His God-work made.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ever from all ripe worlds did break,<br>Men's voices, as when children speak,<br>Eager and querulous and weak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And pierc'd to the All-worker thro'<br>His will that veil'd Him from the view<br>'What hast thou done? What dost thou do?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And ever from His heart did flow<br>Majestical, the answer low--<br>The benison 'Ye shall not know!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wan ghost on the Hell-way sped,<br>Nor yet Valhalla's lights were shed<br>Upon the white brow of the Dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor sang within his ears the roll<br>Of trumpets calling to his soul;<br>Nor shone wide portals of the goal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His spear grew heavy on his breast,<br>Dropp'd, like a star his golden crest;<br>Far, far the vast Halls of the Blest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His heart grown faint, his feet grown weak,<br>He scal'd the knit mists of a peak,<br>That ever parted grey and bleak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, as by unseen talons nipp'd,<br>To deep Abysses slowly slipp'd;<br>Then, swift as thick smoke strongly ripp'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By whirling winds from ashy ring,<br>Of dank weeds blackly smoldering,<br>The peak sprang upward a quivering</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And perdurable, set its face<br>Against the pulsing breast of space<br>But for a moment to its base.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Refluent roll'd the crest new sprung,<br>In clouds with ghastly lightnings stung,--<br>Faint thunders to their black feet clung.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His faithful hound ran at his heel--<br>His thighs and breast were bright with steel--<br>He saw the awful Hellway reel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But far along its bleak peaks rang<br>A distant trump--its airy clang<br>Like light through deathly shadows sprang.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He knew the blast--the voice of love!<br>Cleft lay the throbbing peak above<br>Sail'd light, wing'd like a silver dove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On strove the toiling ghost, his soul<br>Stirr'd like strong mead in wassail bowl,<br>That quivers to the shout of 'Skoal!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Strode from the mist close-curv'd and cold<br>As is a writhing dragon's fold;<br>A warrior with shield of gold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sharp blade glitter'd at his hip,<br>Flamed like a star his lance's tip;<br>His bugle sang at bearded lip.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath his golden sandels flew<br>Stars from the mist as grass flings dew;<br>Or red fruit falls from the dark yew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As under shelt'ring wreaths of snow<br>The dark blue north flowers richly blow--<br>Beneath long locks of silver glow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Clear eyes, that burning on a host<br>Would win a field at sunset lost,<br>Ere stars from Odin's hand were toss'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He stretch'd his hand, he bowed his head:<br>The wan ghost to his bosom sped--<br>Dead kiss'd the bearded lips of Dead!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What dost thou here, my youngest born?<br>'Thou--scarce yet fronted with life's storm--<br>'Why art thou from the dark earth torn?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When high Valhalla puls'd and rang<br>'With harps that shook as grey bards sang--<br>''Mid the loud joy I heard the clang.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Of Death's dark doors--to me alone<br>'Smote in thy awful dying groan--<br>'My soul recall'd its blood and bone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Viewless the cord which draws from far<br>'To the round sun some mighty star;<br>'Viewless the strong-knit soul-cords are!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I felt thy dying gasp--thy soul<br>'Towards mine a kindred wave in roll,<br>'I left the harps--I left the bowl.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I sought the Hellway--I--the blest;<br>'That thou, new death-born son should rest<br>'Upon the strong rock of my breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What dost thou here, young, fair and bold?<br>'Sleek with youth's gloss thy locks of gold;<br>'Thy years by flow'rs might yet be told!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What dost thou at the ghostly goal,<br>'While yet thy years were to thy soul,<br>'As mead yet shallow in the bowl?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His arm about the pale ghost cast,<br>The warrior blew a clear, loud blast;<br>Like frighten'd wolves the mists fled past.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grew firm the way; worlds flame to light<br>The awful peak that thrusts its height,<br>With swift throbs upward, like a flight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of arrows from a host close set<br>Long meteors pierc'd its breast of jet--<br>Again the trump his strong lips met--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And at its blast blew all the day,<br>In broad winds on the awful Way;<br>Sun smote at Sun across the grey;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As reindeer smite the high-pil'd snow<br>To find the green moss far below--<br>They struck the mists thro' which did glow</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright vales--and on a sea afar,<br>Lay at a sunlit harbour bar,<br>A galley gold-sail'd like a star!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spake the pale ghost as onward sped<br>Heart-press'd to heart the valiant dead;<br>Soft the green paths beneath their tread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I lov'd, this is my tale, and died--<br>The fierce chief hunger'd for my bride--<br>The spear of Gisli pierc'd my side!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And she--her love fill'd all my need--<br>Her vows were sweet and strong as mead;<br>Look, father--doth my heart still bleed?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I built her round with shaft and spear,<br>I kept her mine for one brief year--<br>She laugh'd above my blood stain'd bier!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Upon a far and ice-peak'd coast<br>My galleys by long winds were toss'd--<br>There Gisli feasted with his host.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Of warriors triumphant--he<br>Strode out from harps and revelry;<br>And sped his shaft above the sea!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Look, father, doth my heart bleed yet?<br>His arrow Brynhild's arrow met--<br>My gallies anchor'd in their rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Again their arrows meet--swift lies<br>That pierc'd me from their smiling eyes;<br>How fiercely hard a man's heart dies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'She false--he false! There came a day<br>Pierc'd by the fierce chief's spear I lay--<br>My ghost rose shrieking from its clay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I saw on Brynhild's golden vest<br>The shining locks of Gisli rest;<br>I sought the Hell-way to the Blest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Father, put forth thy hand and tear<br>Their twin shafts from my heart, all bare<br>To thee--they rankle death--like there!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said the voice of Evil to the ear of Good,<br>'Clasp thou my strong, right hand,<br>'Nor shall our clasp be known or understood<br>'By any in the land.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I, the dark giant, rule strongly on the earth,<br>'Yet thou, bright one, and I<br>'Sprang from the one great mystery--at one birth<br>'We looked upon the sky!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I labour at my bleak, my stern toil accurs'd<br>Of all mankind--nor stay,<br>To rest, to murmur 'I hunger' or 'I thirst!'<br>Nor for my joy delay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My strength pleads strongly with thee; doth any beat<br>With hammer and with stone<br>Past tools to use them to his deep defeat--<br>To turn them on his throne?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then I of God the mystery--toil thou with me<br>Brother; but in the sight<br>Of men who know not, I, the stern son shall be<br>Of Darkness--Thou of Light!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413292" data-title="Gisli: The Chieftain de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="To the Goddess Lada prayed Gisli, holding high his spear Bound with buds of spring, and laughed All his heart to Lada's ear. Damp his yellow beard with mead, Loud the harps clang'd thro the day; With bruised breasts triumphant rode Gisli's galley..."></div> </div> </div>

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