Skogul FROM midst the dusty fields of war, To realms beyond the northern star, To loud Valhalla's echoing halls, I bear the hero ere he falls; The valiant dwell in these abodes, And sit amid the carousing gods; Not goblets rich, nor flasks of gold, But skulls of mantling mead they hold; The coward while he gasps for breath; Sinks darkling to Hela beneath. Harold O be it mine, from conflict borne, To reach the realms of endless morn; At Odin's board my lips I'll lave In the foam'd bev'rage of the brave. Odin Who breaks the dusty fields of war, Death travels by his clattering car; Perch'd on the whirlwind's thund'ring tower, On come the sable tempest's power; Ye warriors rise, ye chiefs give room, A godlike guest in youthful bloom, Harold from fields of battle see, Begin th' immortal revelry. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DEAD LETTERS (T.L.H.) by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 10 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LIVE IN THE PRESENT by SARAH KNOWLES BOLTON |