A spark translucent, from eternity, is time:
All earthly life is but the refuse from Allfather's throne;
Atonement is to there return all purified.
The lofty asas fall themselves, and Ragnarok
The day of their atonement is, a bloody day
On Vigrid's hundred miles of plain; there will they fall,
But fall not unavenged, for there the evil die
Forever, but the fallen good arise again,
Refined, from out the flaming pyre to higher life.
'Tis true the star-crown, pale and withered, falleth down
From heaven's temple; earth too, sinks beneath the sea,
But brighter is it born again, and joyous lifts
Its flower crowned head from out the seething waves,--
And new created stars pursue with god-like glance
Their silent pathway round about the new-born earth.
But on the green hill-slopes will Balder govern then
The new-born asas, and a human race renewed.
The golden tablets filled with runes, lost long ago,
In Time's fresh morning, then are found amid the grass
On Ida's plain, by Valhal's children reconciled.
The fallen good in death are only tried by fire;
It is atonement made, a birth to higher life,
Which, purified, flies back to him from whom it came,
And plays a guileless child upon its father's knee.
Alas! that all the best is found beyond the grave,--
That gate of green which Gimle opens; vile is all,
Contaminated all that dwells beneath the stars.
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