A FRAGMENT by ANONYMOUS

I

'NOBLE warrior! droop not thus;
Tower of strength thou hast in us.
Yonder stand our anvils ten,
Round them, see, are stalwart men --
Bare broad shoulder, sinewy limb,
Black-brow'd feature sooty-grim;
Eye like glare of smouldering fire,
Lighted with a dull desire.
These shall sweat; their hammers swinging,
They will keep the anvils ringing,
Forging thee such trusty mail,
Nought against it will prevail.'

II

'God-like artist, spare thy pain:
Strength and skill alike are vain.
When upon the destin'd day
Balder meets me in the fray,
Were my breast-plate triple steel,
If his shaft but once it feel, --
Such that weapon's magic power --
Like a guilty thing 'twill cower,
And, smit through with fear and wonder,
Shrink, and cleave, and fall asunder.
Well I know this weird is mine --
I am human, he divine.'

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