THE SEA-KING'S BURIAL
by: Charles Mackay (1814-1889)
- "Y
strength is failing fast,"
- Said the sea-king to his men;--
- "I shall never sail the seas
- Like a conqueror again.
- But while yet a drop remains
- Of the life-blood in my veins,
- Raise, oh, raise me from the bed;
- Put the crown upon my head;
- Put my good sword in my hand;
- And so lead me to the strand,
- Where my ship at anchor rides
- Steadily;
- If I cannot end my life
- In the bloody battle-strife,
- Let me die as I have lived,
- On the sea."
-
- They have raised King Balder up,
- Put his crown upon his head;
- They have sheathed his limbs in mail,
- And the purple o'er him spread;
- And amid the greeting rude
- Of a gathering multitude,
- Borne him slowly to the shore--
- All the energy of yore
- From his dim eyes flashing forth--
- Old sea-lion of the north--
- As he looked upon his ship
- Riding free,
- And on his forehead pale
- Felt the cold refreshing gale,
- And heard the welcome sound
- Of the sea.
-
- They have borne him to the ship
- With a slow and solemn tread;
- They have placed him on the deck
- With his crown upon his head,
- Where he sat as on a throne;
- And have left him there alone,
- With his anchor ready weighed,
- And the snowy sails displayed
- To the favoring wind, once more
- Blowing freshly from the shore;
- And have bidden him farewell
- Tenderly,
- Saying, "King of mighty men,
- We shall meet thee yet again,
- In Valhalla, with the monarchs
- Of the sea."
-
- Underneath him in the hold
- They have placed the lighted brand;
- And the fire burning slow
- As the vessel from the land,
- Like a stag-hound from the slips,
- Darted forth from out the ships.
- There was music in her sail
- As it swelled before the gale,
- And a dashing at her prow
- As it cleft the waves below,
- And the good ship sped along,
- Scudding free;
- As on many a battle morn
- In her time she had been borne,
- To struggle, and to conquer
- On the sea.
-
- And the king with sudden strength
- Started up, and paced the deck,
- With his good sword for his staff,
- And his robe around his neck:
- Once alone, he raised his hand
- To the people on the land;
- And with shout and joyous cry
- Once again they made reply,
- Till the loud exulting cheer
- Sounded faintly on his ear;
- For the gale was o'er him blowing
- Fresh and free;
- And ere yet an hour had passed,
- He was driven before the blast,
- And a storm was on his path,
- On the sea.
-
- And still upon the deck,
- While the storm about him rent,
- King Balder paced about
- Till his failing strength was spent.
- Then he stopped awhile to rest--
- Crossed his hands upon his breast,
- And looked upward to the sky
- With a dim but dauntless eye;
- And heard the tall mast creak,
- And the fitful tempest speak
- Shrill and fierce, to the billows
- Rushing free;
- And within himself he said:
- "I am coming, O ye dead!
- To join you in Valhalla,
- O'er the sea.
-
- "So blow, ye tempests, blow,
- And my spirit shall not quail;
- I have fought with many a foe;
- I have weathered many a gale;
- And in this hour of death,
- Ere I yield my fleeting breath--
- Ere the fire now burning slow
- Shall come rushing from below,
- And this worn and wasted frame
- Be devoted to the flame--
- I will raise my voice in triumph,
- Singing free;--
- To the great All-Father's home
- I am driving through the foam,
- I am sailing to Valhalla,
- O'er the sea.
-
- "So blow, ye stormy winds--
- And ye flames ascend on high;--
- In the easy, idle bed
- Let the slave and coward die!
- But give me the driving keel,
- Clang of shields and flashing steel;--
- Or my foot on foreign ground,
- With my enemies around!
- Happy, happy, thus I'd yield,
- On the deck, or in the field,
- My last breath, shouting 'On
- To victory.'
- But since this has been denied,
- They shall say that I have died
- Without flinching, like a monarch
- Of the sea."
-
- And Balder spoke no more,
- And no sound escaped his lip;--
- And he looked, yet scarcely saw
- The destruction of his ship,
- Nor the fleet sparks mounting high,
- Nor the glare upon the sky;--
- Scarcely felt the scorching heat
- That was gathering at his feet,
- Nor the fierce flames mounting o'er him
- Greedily.
- But the life was in him yet,
- And the courage to forget
- All his pain, in his triumph
- On the sea.
-
- Once alone a cry arose,
- Half of anguish, half of pride,
- As he sprang upon his feet,
- With the flames on every side.
- "I am coming!" said the king,
- "Where the swords and bucklers ring--
- Where the warrior lives again
- With the souls of mighty men--
- Where the weary find repose,
- And the red wine ever flows;--
- I am coming, great All-Father,
- Unto thee!
- Unto Odin, unto Thor,
- And the strong, true hearts of yore--
- I am coming to Valhalla,
- O'er the sea."
"The Sea-King's Burial"
is reprinted from Historic Ballads and Poems. Ed. Rupert
S. Holland. Philadelphia: George W. Jacobs & Co., 1912. |
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POEMS BY CHARLES MACKAY |
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