SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
Furrow'd it; and the water gurgled in. 331
And the ship floated on the waves, and rock'd.
But in the hills a strong east-wind arose,
And came down moaning to the sea; first squalls
Ran black o'er the sea's face, then steady rush'd 835
The breeze, and filPd the sails, and blew the fire.
And wreathed in smoke the ship stood out to sea.
Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire,
And the pile crackled; and between the logs,
Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt.
Curling and darting, higher, until they lick'd 841
The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast.
And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the ship
Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire.
And the Gods stood upon the beach, and gazed. $45
And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down
Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on.
Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm;
But through the dark they watched the burning ship '
Still carried o'er the distant waters on, 850
Farther and farther, like an Eye of Fire.
And as in the dark night a travelling man,
Who bivouacs in a forest 'mid the hills,
Sees suddenly a spire of flame shoot up
Out of the black waste forest, far below, ^55
Which woodcutters have lighted near their lodge,
Against the wolves; and all night long it flares:—
So flar'd in the far darkness, Balder's pyre.
But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared,
The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile.
And as, in a decaying winter-fire,
A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks—
So with a shower of sparks the pile fell in,
Reckiening the sea around; and all was darjc
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