INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 561
Ever 'neath high Valhalla Hall the well-tuned horns begin, When the swords are out in the underworld, and the weary Gods
come in.
Ever through high Valhalla Gate the Patient Angel goes He opens the eyes that are blind with hate he joins the hands
of foes.
Dust of the stars was under our feet, glitter of stars above Wrecks of our wrath dropped reeling down as we fought and
we spurned and we strove. Worlds upon worlds we tossed aside, and scattered them to
and fro, The night that we stormed Valhalla, a million years ago!
They are forgiven as they forgive all those dark wounds and deep, Their beds are made on the Lap of Time and they lie down and
sleep.
They are forgiven as they forgive all those old wounds that bleed. They shut their eyes from their worshippers; they sleep till the
world has need.
She with the star I had marked for my own I with my set
desire Lost in the loom of the Night of Nights lighted by worlds
afire Met in a war against the Gods where the headlong meteors
glow, Hewing our way to Valhalla, a million years ago!
They will come back come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls.
He never wasted a leaf or a tree. Do you think He would squan- der souls ?
