In solemn silence the gods watched the ship float out upon the sea.

   “And wreathed in smoke, the ship stood out to sea. 
    Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire,
    And the pile crackled; and between the logs
    Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt,
    Curling and darting, higher, till they lick’d
    The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast,
    And ate the shriveling sails; but still the ship
    Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire. 
    And the gods stood upon the beach and gazed,
    And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down
    Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on. 
    Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm;
    But through the night they watched the burning ship
    Still carried o’er the distant waters on,
    Farther and farther, like an eye of fire. 
    And long, in the far dark, blazed Balder’s pile;
    But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared;
    The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile. 
    And as, in a decaying winter fire,
    A charr’d log, falling, makes a shower of sparks—­
    So with a shower of sparks the pile fell in,
    Reddening the sea around; and all was dark.”
[Footnote:  The poetic quotations in this story are from
Matthew Arnold’s Balder Dead.]

Then, when all was over, the gods went mournfully back to their homes, there to await the return of Hermod.  Their palaces were brightly illuminated, but no lights shone from the windows of Breidablik, Balder’s palace; and as long as that was dark, the gods cared little for the brilliance of their own dwellings.

Hermod, in the meantime, had journeyed across the rainbow bridge, and on and on toward the north until he reached the Giall river, which runs between the regions of Hela and the upper world.  Well the guard of the bridge knew, when she heard on the bridge the noise of the horse’s feet, that it was no shade who was crossing; but when Hermod told his errand, he was allowed to go on.  And now his way led over trackless, slippery ice, on which scarce any other horse could have kept his footing; and surely no other horse could have leapt, as did Sleipnir, the gate to Hela’s own realm.  Once within, Hermod came rapidly into the presence of the queen, and on his knees before her implored her to allow Balder to return to the light and the upper air.

    “’For Heaven was Balder born, the city of gods
      And heroes, where they live in light and joy. 
      Thither restore him, for his place is there!’”

Hela remained unmoved by his pleadings; and what wonder?  For she was Loki’s daughter, and knew by whose act Balder had been sent below.  Finally she said: 

“Hermod, I shall try whether the protestations that all things lament Balder are indeed true.  Return to Asgard; and if, through all the earth, all things, living and dead, weep for Balder, he shall return.  But if one thing in all the world refuses to shed tears, here he shall stay.”