de use of are the poems "Iceland First Seen," and "To the Muses of the
North." No reader of the poet's biography can forget the remarkable
journey that Morris made through Iceland, nor how he prepared for that
journey with all the care and love of a pilgrim bound for a shrine of
his deepest devotion. Every foot of ground was visited that had been
hallowed by the noble souls and inspiring deeds of the past, and that
pilgrimage warmed him to loving literary creation through the remainder
of his life. The last two stanzas of the first of the poems just
mentioned show what a strong hold the forsaken island had upon his
affections, and go far to explain the success of his Icelandic work:
O Queen of the grief without knowledge,
of the courage that may not avail,
Of the longing that may not attain,
of the love that shall never forget,
More joy than the gladness of laughter
thy voice hath amidst of its wail:
More hope than of pleasure fulfilled
amidst of thy blindness is set;
More glorious than gaining of all
thine unfaltering hand that shall fail:
For what is the mark on thy brow
but the brand that thy Brynhild doth bear?
Lone once, and loved and undone
by a love that no ages outwear.
Ah! when thy Balder conies back,
and bears from the heart of the Sun
Peace and the healing of pain,
and the wisdom that waiteth no more;
And the lilies are laid on thy brow
'mid the crown of the deeds thou hast done;
And the roses spring up by thy feet
that the rocks of the wilderness wore.
Ah! when thy Balder comes back
and we gather the gains he hath won,
Shall we not linger a little
to talk of thy sweetness of old,
Yea, turn back awhile to thy travail
whence the Gods stood aloof to behold?
In several other poems in this volume he recurs to the practice of his
romances, Scandinavianizes where the tendency of other poets would be
to mediaevalize. "Of the Wooing of Hallbiorn the Strong," and "The Raven
and the King's Daughter" are examples. Here we have ballads like those
that Coleridge and Keats conceived on occasion, full of the beauty that
lends itself so kindly to painted-glass decoration; clustered
spear-shafts, crested helms and curling banners, and everywhere lily
hands combing yellow hair or broidering silken standards. But the names
strike a strange note in these songs of Morris, and the accompaniments
are very
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