Then forth from realms of nether air

Not death, but death's young brother rose-
Pale, fierce insanity, which goes

With poppy wreaths in streaming hair,
And glares up sometimes at the sky,
And sometimes downward at the earth
Distorts its ashen lips in mirth,

And weeps from its low-burning eye.
It comes and touches Axel's brain,
And ever afterwards his feet

Pace round the grave with restless beat,
As once in saga-days the slain
Were wont to flit, and linger nigh
Where some deep-buried treasure lay,
And all the shore heard night and day
His pitiful, dejected cry :—
"Be still, ye billows! cease your roar:
Ye must not smite so on the shore.
What do ye but disturb my dreams?
I can not love your foamy streams
That dance blood-mixed along the sands,
For ye bring death to these my strands.
Here lately lay a youth and bled,
And roses on his grave I spread,
For he was like—I know well whom ;
I bear her home in spring's first bloom.
They tell me that earth lulls my love
To slumber, that grass grows above
Her faithful breast: they are deceived—
She sat upon the rock and grieved,
Pale was she as one painteth death—
But that came of the moon's faint light;

And cold her lips and cheek that night-
That came but of the north wind's breath.

I bade my own beloved stay,

Her finger stroked my locks away:

My brain was dark and heavy then,
But soon methought it light again.
Far off in yonder east there shine
The vanished days, alas! how few,
Those days as fair as heaven's blue
When Axel lived the life divine.
A castle stood in groves of green,
And in that castle dwelt a queen.
I lay in forests murdered there;
She brought my life back in a kiss,
And from her heart she gave me bliss,
Her heart of love, so warm and rare.
Now lies it frozen in her breast,
Her withering breast, and all is past!—
Ye stars of yonder spaces vast,
Take off from me your burning eyes!
A morning star, as bright as ye,
I saw sink in a bloody sea.

It smells of blood yet by the strand,
And blood there is

upon my hand.”

Such was his plaint on Sota's shore, Where yet he stands at break of day, At nightfall will not go away, But lingers weeping as before. One morning saw him lifeless there, His hands clasped upward as in prayer, While on his cheeks the last tears lie, Half stiffened in the morning's chill; But on the grave is fastened still The viewless luster of his eye.

GERMAN FOLK-LORE.

THE mythology of the Germans, which seems to have passed from the minds of the people about the time of the Reformation, has been revived within the past century and a half, and is to-day more fondly cherished than ever before. It is artistically grouped in two great epic cycles of poetry, centuries old. The materials of which it is composed are very ancient, and originated in an era antecedent to written history. They are, in fact, a part of the hereditary possession of the Aryan race, and are traced by Max Müller and others to an origin in common with that of other Aryan mythologies. In Germany and in the Norse countries they assume a local form and coloring, and are thoroughly representative of the peoples by whom they have been developed into their present poetic forms. In the south German cycle, dim traditions of old historical events are seen to have been insensibly combined with the fables of antiquity.

SIEGFRIED, the hero, was a prince of the lower Rhine, the son of KING SIGMUND and QUEEN SIEGELIND, who dwelt in the strong castle of Santen. In his youth he slew a dragon, and bathed in its blood, which possessed the charm of rendering invulnerable the portions of the body which it touched. Unfortunately, a linden leaf lodged upon his back, between his shoulders, and clung there, preventing the entire application of the blood, and leaving a vulnerable spot. Siegfried rode forth into the land of old King Nibelung, where there was a cavern containing a vast hoard of golden treasure. SCHILBUNG and NIBELUNG, sons of the old King, quarreled

FOLK-LORE 13

over their inheritance. Siegfried slew them and their bodyguard of twelve giants and possessed himself of the treasure, which he committed to the keeping of the dwarf ALBERICH, in the cave. The young knight obtained from the slain princes the famous sword Balmung, and from the dwarf the magic cloak Tarnkappe, which rendered the wearer invisible. and endowed him with the strength of twelve men. Siegfried wooed and won the beautiful princess Kriemhild, daughter of KING DANKRAT and QUEEN UTE, of the great Burgundian kingdom, the capital of which was Worms.

He was treacherously slain by Hagen, the uncle of King Gunther, son of Dankrat. Michelet says of Siegfried, “In this colossal figure are combined what Greece divided-heroic strength and the passion for travel-Achilles and Ulysses."

KRIEMHILD was a princess of rare beauty and estate, residing with her three royal brothers, GUNTHER, Gernot, and GISELHER, in the ancient city of Worms, where she was wooed and won by Siegfried, who came to her country as a wandering knight, and distinguished himself by great services to her brothers. She accompanied Siegfried to the Netherlands, where he was crowned king, and where she received as her bridal portion the title to the golden treasure of the Nibelungs. She bore a child, who was named Gunther, in honor of her brother. Returning with Siegfried to Worms to visit King Gunther, she became involved in a jealous quarrel with QUEEN BRUNHILD, through whose machinations she lost her husband and her hoard of treasure. Becoming transformed by her wrongs into a demon of hate, she entered upon a career of vengeance. She was sought in marriage by ETZEL, King of the Huns, and became his bride. Inviting her brothers and their knights to visit the capital of Etzel, she compassed their destruction, and was herself slain by one of her subjects. Forestier says of Kriemhild: "She does not purpose at first the destruction of any but her arch-enemy, Hagen; but the spirit by her set afloat grows and gains strength until all are overcome by its power; Kriemhild herself perishes in the

great massacre, but not until the hoard, the accursed (which, although no longer the main motive power, gives abundant evidence of its mischievous nature), is the cause of her having Gunther, the last remaining brother, beheaded, and herself bringing his head to Hagen."

BRUNHILD was the Queen of Isenland (not Iceland, as some have supposed, but Yssel, now a province of Holland), and was wooed by King Gunther. She agreed to be the bride of the man who should be able to compete with her in three trials of strength and skill in hurling the lance, throwing a stone, and leaping. Through the assistance of Siegfried, who was rendered invisible and supernaturally strong by means of his coat, Tarnkappe, Gunther was made to appear the victor, and won the Queen for his bride. Brunhild became offended with her husband, and by her superior strength bound him with a magic girdle, and hung him upon a nail in the wall of the bridal chamber. The unhappy king was relieved by Siegfried, who entered the chamber enveloped in his Tarnkappe and seized the Queen's girdle and ring, which he bore away. In the deadly rivalry which arose between Brunhild and Kriemhild began a struggle of appalling fierceness and magnitude, in which nations were destroyed.

HAGEN, the uncle of King Gunther, was the minister of Brunhild's vengeance. Gaining the confidence of Kriemhild, he learned from her the secret of Siegfried's vulnerability. He induced the hero to run a race with him to a spring of water, where, stepping behind him, the treacherous prince dealt Siegfried a fatal blow. When Kriemhild had her hoard of treasure removed from the Nibelungenland to Worms (where she resided after Siegfried's death), Hagen, by his wiles, secured the keys of her treasury, obtained the gold, and sunk it in a secret place in the Rhine River.

While Hagen opposed the marriage of Kriemhild to King Etzel, he was led to approve the friendly expedition of the Burgundians into the country of the Huns, whither King Gunther and his court had been invited to visit Kriemhild.