Rune L-d

Spake the wife of old Ruotus: 'Occupied are all the chambers, All the bath-rooms near the reed-brook; In the mount of fire are couches, Is a stable, in the forest, For the flaming horse of Hisi; In the stable is a manger, Fitting birth-place for the hero From the wife of cold misfortune, Worthy couch for Mariatta.'" Thereupon the hapless maiden, Mariatta, virgin-mother, Fell to bitter tears and murmurs, Spake these words in depths of sorrow: "I, alas! must go an outcast, Wander as a wretched hireling, Like a servant in dishonor, Hasten to the burning mountain, To the stable in the forest, Make my bed within a manger, Near the flaming steed of Hisi!" Quick the hapless virgin-mother, Outcast from her father's dwelling, Gathered up her flowing raiment, Grasped a broom of birchen branches, Hastened forth in pain and sorrow To the stable in the woodlands, On the heights of Tapio's mountains, Spake these words in supplication: "Come, I pray thee, my Creator, Only friend in times of trouble, Come to me and bring protection To thy child, the virgin-mother, To the maiden, Mariatta, In this hour of sore affliction. Come to me, benignant Ukko, Come, thou only hope and refuge, Lest thy guiltless child should perish, Die the death of the unworthy!" When the virgin, Mariatta, Had arrived within the stable Of the flaming horse of Hisi, She addressed the steed as follows: "Breathe, O sympathizing fire-horse, Breathe on me, the virgin-mother, Let thy heated breath give moisture, Let thy pleasant warmth surround me, Like the vapor of the morning; Let this pure and helpless maiden Find a refuge in thy manger!" Thereupon the horse, in pity, Breathed the moisture of his nostrils On the body of the virgin, Wrapped her in a cloud of vapor, Gave her warmth and needed comforts, Gave his aid to the afflicted, To the virgin, Mariatta. There the babe was born and cradled Cradled in a woodland-manger, Of the virgin, Mariatta, Pure as pearly dews of morning, Holy as the stars in heaven. There the mother rocks her infant, In his swaddling clothes she wraps him, Lays him in her robes of linen; Carefully the babe she nurtures, Well she guards her much-beloved, Guards her golden child of beauty, Her beloved gem of silver. But alas! the child has vanished, Vanished while the mother slumbered. Mariatta, lone and wretched, Fell to weeping, broken-hearted, Hastened off to seek her infant. Everywhere the mother sought him, Sought her golden child of beauty, Her beloved gem of silver; Sought him underneath the millstone, In the sledge she sought him vainly, Underneath the sieve she sought him, Underneath the willow-basket, Touched the trees, the grass she parted, Long she sought her golden infant, Sought him on the fir-tree-mountain, In the vale, and hill, and heather; Looks within the clumps of flowers, Well examines every thicket, Lifts the juniper and willow, Lifts the branches of the alder. Lo! a star has come to meet her, And the star she thus beseeches-.