Funeral

By Matthew Arnold

    The gods held talk together, groupd in knots,     Round Balders corpse, which they had thither borne;     And Hermod came down towards them from the gate.     And Lok, the Father of the Serpent, first     Beheld him come, and to his neighbour spake:     See, here is Hermod, who comes single back     From Hell; and shall I tell thee how he seems     Like as a farmer, who hath lost his dog,     Some morn, at market, in a crowded town     Through many streets the poor beast runs in vain,     And follows this man after that, for hours;     And, late at evening, spent and panting, falls     Before a strangers threshold, not his home,     With flanks a-tremble, and his slender tongue     Hangs quivering out between his dust-smeard jaws,     And piteously he eyes the passers by:     But home his master comes to his own farm,     Far in the country, wondering where he is     So Hermod comes to-day unfollowd home.     And straight his neighbour, movd with wrath, replied:     Deceiver, fair in form, but false in heart,     Enemy, Mocker, whom, though Gods, we hate     Peace, lest our Father Odin hear thee gibe.     Would I might see him snatch thee in his hand,     And bind thy carcase, like a bale, with cords,     And hurl thee in a lake, to sink or swim.     If clear from plotting Balders death, to swim;     But deep, if thou devisedst it, to drown,     And perish, against fate, before thy day!     So they two soft to one another spake.     But Odin lookd toward the land, and saw     His messenger; and he stood forth, and cried:     And Hermod came, and leapt from Sleipner down,     And in his Fathers hand put Sleipners rein,     And greeted Odin and the Gods, and said:     Odin, my Father, and ye, Gods of Heaven!     Lo, home, having performd your will, I come.     Into the joyless kingdom have I been,     Below, and lookd upon the shadowy tribes     Of ghosts, and commund with their solemn Queen;     And to your prayer she sends you this reply:     Show her through all the world the signs of grief:     Fails but one thing to grieve, there Balder stops.     Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep hint, plants and stones.     So shall she know your loss was dear indeed,     And bend her heart, and give you Balder back.     He spoke; and all the Gods to Odin lookd:     And straight the Father of the Ages said:     Ye Gods, these terms may keep another day.     But now, put on your arms, and mount your steeds,     And in procession all come near, and weep     Balder; for that is what the dead desire.     When ye enough have wept, then build a pile     Of the heapd wood, and burn his corpse with fire     Out of our sight; that we may turn from grief,     And lead, as erst, our daily life in Heaven.     He spoke; and the Gods armd: and Odin donnd     His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold,     And led the way on Sleipner: and the rest     Followd, in tears, their Father and their King.     And thrice in arms around the dead they rode,     Weeping; the sands were wetted, and their arms,     With their thick-falling tears: so good a friend     They mournd that day, so bright, so lovd a God.     And Odin came, and laid his kingly hands     On Balders breast, and thus began the wail:     Farewell, O Balder, bright and lovd, my Son!     In that great day, the Twilight of the Gods.     When Muspels children shall beleaguer Heaven,     Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm.     Thou camest near the next, O Warrior Thor!     Shouldering thy Hammer, in thy chariot drawn,     Swaying the long-haird Goats with silverd rein;     And over Balders corpse these words didst say:     Brother, thou dwellest in the darksome land,     And talkest with the feeble tribes of ghosts,     Now, and I know not how they prize thee there,     But here, I know, thou wilt be missd and mournd.     For haughty spirits and high wraths are rife     Among the Gods and Heroes here in Heaven,     As among those, whose joy and work is war:     And daily strifes arise, and angry words:     But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day,     Heard no one ever an injurious word     To God or Hero, but thou keptest back     The others, labouring to compose their brawls.     Be ye then kind, as Balder too was kind:     For we lose him, who smoothd all strife in Heaven.     He spake: and all the Gods assenting waild.     And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears:     The loveliest Goddess she in Heaven, by all     Most honourd after Frea, Odins wife:     Her long ago the wandering Oder took     To mate, but left her to roam distant lands;     Since then she seeks him, and weeps tears of gold:     Names hath she many; Vanadis on earth     They call her; Freya is her name in Heaven:     She in her hands took Balders head, and spake:     Balder, my brother, thou art gone a road     Unknown and long, and haply on that way     My long-lost wandering Oder thou hast met,     For in the paths of Heaven he is not found.     Oh, if it be so, tell him what thou wert     To his neglected wife, and what he is,     And wring his heart with shame, to hear thy word.     For he, my husband, left me here to pine,     Not long a wife, when his unquiet heart     First drove him from me into distant lands.     Since then I vainly seek him through the world,     And weep from shore to shore my golden tears,     But neither god nor mortal heeds my pain.     Thou only, Balder, wert for ever kind,     To take my hand, and wipe my tears, and say:     Weep not, O Freya, weep no golden tears!     One day the wandering Oder will return,     Or thou wilt find him in thy faithful search     On some great road, or resting in an inn,     Or at a ford, or sleeping by a tree.     So Balder said; but Oder, well I know,     My truant Oder I shall see no more     To the worlds end; and Balder now is gone;     And I am left uncomforted in Heaven.     She spake; and all the Goddesses bewaild.     Last, from among the Heroes one came near,     No God, but of the Hero-troop the chief     Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets,     And ruld oer Denmark and the heathy isles,     Living; but Ella capturd him and slew:     A king, whose fame then filld the vast of Heaven,     Now time obscures it, and mens later deeds:     He last approachd the corpse, and spake, and said:     Balder, there yet are many Scalds in Heaven     Still left, and that chief Scald, thy brother Brage,     Whom we may bid to sing, though thou art gone:     And all these gladly, while we drink, we hear,     After the feast is done, in Odins hall:     But they harp ever on one string, and wake     Remembrance in our soul of wars alone,     Such as on earth we valiantly have wagd,     And blood, and ringing blows, and violent death:     But when thou sangest, Balder, thou didst strike     Another note, and, like a bird in spring,     Thy voice of joyance minded us, and youth,     And wife, and children, and our ancient home.     Yes, and I too rememberd then no more     My dungeon, where the serpents stung me dead,     Nor Ellas victory on the English coast;     But I heard Thora laugh in Gothland Isle;     And saw my shepherdess, Aslauga, tend     Her flock along the white Norwegian beach:     Tears started to mine eyes with yearning joy     Therefore with grateful heart I mourn thee dead.     So Regner spake, and all the Heroes groand.     But now the sun had passd the height of Heaven,     And soon had all that day been spent in wail;     But then the Father of the Ages said:     Ye Gods, there well may be too much of wail.     Bring now the gatherd wood to Balders ship;     Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre.     But when the Gods and Heroes heard, they brought     The wood to Balders ship, and built a pile,     Full the decks breadth, and lofty; then the corpse     Of Balder on the highest top they laid,     With Nanna on his right, and on his left     Hoder, his brother, whom his own hand slew.     And they set jars of wine and oil to lean     Against the bodies, and stuck torches near,     Splinters of pine-wood, soakd with turpentine;     And brought his arms and gold, and all his stuff,     And slew the dogs which at his table fed,     And his horse, Balders horse, whom most he lovd,     And threw them on the pyre, and Odin threw     A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring.     They fixt the mast, and hoisted up the sails,     Then they put fire to the wood; and Thor     Set his stout shoulder hard against the stern     To push the ship through the thick sand: sparks flew     From the deep trench she ploughd so strong a God     Furrowd it and the water gurgled in.     And the Ship floated on the waves, and rockd:     But in the hills a strong East-Wind arose,     And came down moaning to the sea; first squalls     Ran black oer the seas face, then steady rushd     The breeze, and filld the sails, and blew the fire.     And, wreathd 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, until they lickd     The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast,     And ate the shrivelling sails; but still the Ship     Drove on, ablaze, above her hull, with fire.     And the Gods stood upon the beach, and gazd:     And, while they gazd, 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 dark they watchd the burning Ship     Still carried oer the distant waters on     Farther and farther, like an Eye of Fire.     And as in the dark night a travelling man     Who bivouacs in a forest mid the hills,     Sees suddenly a spire of flame shoot up     Out of the black waste forest, far below,     Which woodcutters have lighted near their lodge     Against the wolves; and all night long it flares:     So flard, in the far darkness, Balders pyre.     But fainter, as the stars rose high, it burnd;     The bodies were consumd, ash chokd the pile     And as in a decaying winter fire     A charrd 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.     But the Gods went by starlight up the shore     To Asgard, and sate down in Odins hall     At table, and the funeral-feast began.     All night they ate the boar Serimners flesh,     And from their horns, with silver rimmd, drank mead,     Silent, and waited for the sacred Morn.     And Morning over all the world was spread.     Then from their loathd feast the Gods arose,     And took their horses, and set forth to ride     Oer the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdalls watch,     To the ash Igdrasil, and Idas plain:     Thor came on foot; the rest on horseback rode.     And they found Mimir sitting by his Fount     Of Wisdom, which beneath the ashtree springs;     And saw the Nornies watering the roots     Of that world-shadowing tree with Honey-dew:     There came the Gods, and sate them down on stones:     And thus the Father of the Ages said:     Ye Gods, the terms ye know, which Hermod brought.     Accept them or reject them; both have grounds.     Accept them, and they bind us, unfulfilld,     To leave for ever Balder in the grave,     An unrecoverd prisoner, shade with shades.     But how, ye say, should the fulfilment fail?     Smooth sound the terms, and light to be fulfilld;     For dear-belovd was Balder while he livd     In Heaven and Earth, and who would grudge him tears?     But from the traitorous seed of Lok they come,     These terms, and I suspect some hidden fraud.     Bethink ye, Gods, is there no other way?     Speak, were not this a way, the way for Gods?     If I, if Odin, clad in radiant arms,     Mounted on Sleipner, with the Warrior Thor     Drawn in his car beside me, and my sons,     All the strong brood of Heaven, to swell my train,     Should make irruption into Helas realm,     And set the fields of gloom ablaze with light,     And bring in triumph Balder back to Heaven?     He spake; and his fierce sons applauded loud.     But Frea, Mother of the Gods, arose,     Daughter and wife of Odin; thus she said:     Odin, thou Whirlwind, what a threat is this!     Thou threatenest what transcends thy might, even thine.     For of all powers the mightiest far art thou,     Lord over men on Earth, and Gods in Heaven;     Yet even from thee thyself hath been withheld     One thing; to undo what thou thyself hast ruld.     For all which hath been fixt, was fixt by thee:     In the beginning, ere the Gods were born,     Before the Heavens were builded, thou didst slay     The Giant Ymir, whom the Abyss brought forth,     Thou and thy brethren fierce, the Sons of Bor,     And threw his trunk to choke the abysmal void:     But of his flesh and members thou didst build     The Earth and Ocean, and above them Heaven:     And from the flaming world, where Muspel reigns,     Thou sentst and fetchedst fire, and madest lights,     Sun Moon and Stars, which thou hast hung in Heaven,     Dividing clear the paths of night and day:     And Asgard thou didst build, and Midgard Fort:     Then me thou madst; of us the Gods were born:     Then, walking by the sea, thou foundest spars     Of wood, and framedst men, who till the earth,     Or on the sea, the field of pirates, sail:     And all the race of Ymir thou didst drown,     Save one, Bergelmer; he on shipboard fled     Thy deluge, and from him the Giants sprang;     But all that brood thou hast removd far off,     And set by Oceans utmost marge to dwell:     But Hela into Niflheim thou threwst,     And gavst her nine unlighted worlds to rule,     A Queen, and empire over all the dead.     That empire wilt thou now invade, light up     Her darkness, from her grasp a subject tear?     Try it; but I, for one, will not applaud.     Nor do I merit, Odin, thou shouldst slight     Me and my words, though thou be first in Heaven     For I too am a Goddess, born of thee,     Thine eldest, and of me the Gods are sprung;     And all that is to come I know, but lock     In my own breast, and have to none reveald.     Come then; since Hela holds by right her prey,     But offers terms for his release to heaven,     Accept the chance; thou canst no more obtain.     Send through the world thy messengers: entreat     All living and unliving things to weep     For Balder; if thou haply thus mayst melt     Hela, and win the lovd one back to Heaven.     She spake, and on her face let fall her veil,     And bowd her head, and sate with folded hands.     Nor did the all-ruling Odin slight her word;     Straightway he spake, and thus addressd the Gods:     Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray     All living and unliving things to weep     Balder, if haply he may thus be won.     When the Gods heard, they straight arose, and took     Their horses, and rode forth through all the world.     North south east west they struck, and roamd the world,     Entreating all things to weep Balders death:     And all that livd, and all without life, wept.     And as in winter, when the frost breaks up,     At winters end, before the spring begins,     And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in     After an hour a dripping sound is heard     In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow     Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes.     And from the boughs the snowloads shuffle down;     And in fields sloping to the south dark plots     Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow,     And widen, and the peasants heart is glad     So through the world was heard a dripping noise     Of all things weeping to bring Balder back:     And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear.     But Hermod rode with Niord, whom he took     To show him spits and beaches of the sea     Far off, where some unwarnd might fail to weep     Niord, the God of storms, whom fishers know     Not born in Heaven; he was in Vanheim reard,     With men, but lives a hostage with the Gods:     He knows each frith, and every rocky creek     Fringd with dark pines, and sands where seafowl scream:     They two scourd every coast, and all things wept.     And they rode home together, through the wood     Of Jarnvid, which to east of Midgard lies     Bordering the Giants, where the trees are iron;     There in the wood before a cave they came     Where sate, in the caves mouth, a skinny Hag,     Toothless and old; she gibes the passers by:     Thok is she calld; but now Lok wore her shape:     She greeted them the first, and laughd, and said:     Ye Gods, good lack, is it so dull in Heaven.     That ye come pleasuring to Thoks Iron Wood?     Lovers of change ye are, fastidious sprites.     Look, as in some boors yard a sweet-breathd cow     Whose manger is stuffd full of good fresh hay     Snuffs at it daintily, and stoops her head     To chew the straw, her litter, at her feet     So ye grow squeamish, Gods, and sniff at Heaven.     She spake; but Hermod answerd her and said:     Thok, not for gibes we come, we come for tears.     Balder is dead, and Hela holds her prey,     But will restore, if all things give him tears.     Begrudge not thine; to all was Balder dear.     But, with a louder laugh, the Hag replied:     Is Balder dead? and do ye come for tears?     Thok with dry eyes will weep oer Balders pyre.     Weep him all other things, if weep they will     I weep him not: let Hela keep her prey!     She spake; and to the caverns depth she fled,     Mocking: and Hermod knew their toil was vain.     And as seafaring men, who long have wrought     In the great deep for gain, at last come home,     And towards evening see the headlands rise     Of their own country, and can clear descry     A fire of witherd furze which boys have lit     Upon the cliffs, or smoke of burning weeds     Out of a tilld field inland; then the wind     Catches them, and drives out again to sea:     And they go long days tossing up and down     Over the grey sea ridges; and the glimpse     Of port they had makes bitterer far their toil     So the Gods cross was bitterer for their joy.     Then, sad at heart, to Niord Hermod spake:     It is the Accuser Lok, who flouts us all.     Ride back, and tell in Heaven this heavy news.     I must again below, to Helas realm.     He spoke; and Niord set forth back to Heaven.     But northward Hermod rode, the way below;     Tho way he knew: and traversd Gialls stream,     And down to Ocean gropd, and crossd the ice,     And came beneath the wall, and found the grate     Still lifted; well was his return foreknown.     And once more Hermod saw around him spread     The joyless plains, and heard the streams of Hell.     But as he enterd, on the extremest hound     Of Niflheim, he saw one Ghost come near,     Hovering, and stopping oft, as if afraid;     Hoder, the unhappy, whom his own hand slew:     And Hermod lookd, and knew his brothers ghost,     And calld him by his name, and sternly said:     Hoder, ill-fated, blind in heart and eyes!     Why tarriest thou to plunge thee in the gulph     Of the deep inner gloom, but flittest here,     In twilight, on the lonely verge of Hell,     Far from the other ghosts, and Helas throne?     Doubtless thou fearest to meet Balders voice,     Thy brother, whom through folly thou didst slay.     He spoke; but Hoder answerd him, and said:     Hermod the nimble, dost thou still pursue     The unhappy with reproach, even in the grave?     For this I died, and fled beneath the gloom,     Not daily to endure abhorring Gods,     Nor with a hateful presence cumber Heaven     And canst thou not, even here, pass pitying by?     No less than Balder have I lost the light     Of Heaven, and communion with my kin:     I too had once a wife, and once a child,     And substance, and a golden house in Heaven:     But all I left of my own act, and fled     Below, and dost thou hate me even here?     Balder upbraids me not, nor hates at all,     Though he has cause, have any cause; but he,     When that with downcast looks I hither came,     Stretchd forth his hand, and, with benignant voice,     Welcome, he said, if there be welcome here,     Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me.     And not to offend thee, Hermod, nor to force     My hated converse on thee, came I up     From the deep gloom, where I will now return;     But earnestly I longd to hover near,     Not too far off, when that thou camest by,     To feel the presence of a brother God,     And hear the passage of a horse of Heaven,     For the last time: for here thou comst no more.     He spake, and turnd to go to the inner gloom.     But Hermod stayd him with mild words, and said:     Thou doest well to chide me, Hoder blind.     Truly thou sayst, the planning guilty mind     Was Loks; the unwitting hand alone was thine.     But Gods are like the sons of men in this     When they have woe, they blame the nearest cause.     Howbeit stay, and be appeasd; and tell     Sits Balder still in pomp by Helas side,     Or is he mingled with the unnumberd dead?     And the blind Hoder answerd him and spake:     His place of state remains by Helas side,     But empty: for his wife, for Nanna came     Lately below, and joind him; and the Pair     Frequent the still recesses of the realm     Of Hela, and hold converse undisturbd.     But they too doubtless, will have breathd the balm     Which floats before a visitant from Heaven,     And have drawn upwards to this verge of Hell.     He spake; and, as he ceasd, a puff of wind     Rolld heavily the leaden mist aside     Round where they stood, and they beheld Two Forms     Make towards them oer the stretching cloudy plain.     And Hermod straight perceivd them, who they were,     Balder and Nanna; and to Balder said:     Balder, too truly thou foresawst a snare.     Lok triumphs still, and Hela keeps her prey.     No more to Asgard shalt thou come, nor lodge     In thy own house, Breidablik, nor enjoy     The love all bear towards thee, nor train up     Forset, thy son, to be belovd like thee.     Here must thou lie, and wait an endless age.     Therefore for the last time, O Balder, hail!     He spake; and Balder answerd him and said:     Hail and farewell, for here thou comst no more.     Yet mourn not for me, Hermod, when thou sittst     In Heaven, nor let the other Gods lament,     As wholly to be pitied, quite forlorn:     For Nanna hath rejoind me, who, of old,     In Heaven, was seldom parted from my side;     And still the acceptance follows me, which crowned     My former life, and cheers me even here.     The iron frown of Hela is relaxd     When I draw nigh, and the wan tribes of dead     Trust me, and gladly bring for my award     Their ineffectual feuds and feeble hates,     Shadows of hates, but they distress them still.     And the fleet-footed Hermod made reply:     Thou hast then all the solace death allows,     Esteem and function: and so far is well.     Yet here thou liest, Balder, underground,     Rusting for ever: and the years roll on,     The generations pass, the ages grow,     And bring us nearer to the final day     When from the south shall march the Fiery Band     And cross the Bridge of Heaven, with Lok for guide,     And Fenris at his heel with broken chain:     While from the east the Giant Rymer steers     His ship, and the great Serpent makes to land;     And all are marshalld in one flaming square     Against the Gods, upon the plains of Heaven.     I mourn thee, that thou canst not help us then.     He spake; but Balder answerd him and said:     Mourn not for me: Mourn, Hermod, for the Gods:     Mourn for the men on Earth, the Gods in Heaven,     Who live, and with their eyes shall see that day.     The day will come, when Asgards towers shall fall,     And Odin, and his Sons, the seed of Heaven:     But what were I, to save them in that hour?     If strength could save them, could not Odin save,     My Father, and his pride, the Warrior Thor,     Vidar the Silent, the Impetuous Tyr?     I, what were I, when these can naught avail?     Yet, doubtless. when the day of battle comes,     And the two Hosts are marshalld, and in Heaven     The golden-crested Cock shall sound alarm,     And his black Brother-Bird from hence reply,     And bucklers clash, and spears begin to pour     Longing will stir within my breast, though vain.     But not to me so grievous, as, I know,     To other Gods it were, is my enforcd     Absence from fields where I could nothing aid:     For I am long since weary of your storm     Of carnage, and find, Hermod, in your life     Something too much of war and broils, which make     Life one perpetual fight, a bath of blood.     Mine eyes are dizzy with the arrowy hail;     Mine ears are stunnd with blows, and sick for calm.     Inactive therefore let me lie, in gloom,     Unarmd, inglorious: I attend the course     Of ages, and my late return to light,     In times less alien to a spirit mild,     In new-recoverd seats, the happier day.     He spake; and the fleet Hermod thus replied:     Brother, what seats are these, what happier day?     Tell me, that I may ponder it when gone.     And the ray-crowned Balder answerd him:     Far to the south, beyond The Blue, there spreads     Another Heaven, The Boundless: no one yet     Hath reachd it: there hereafter shall arise     The second Asgard, with another name.     Thither, when oer this present Earth and Heavens     The tempest of the latter days hath swept,     And they from sight have disappeard, and sunk,     Shall a small remnant of the Gods repair:     Hoder and I shall join them from the grave.     There re-assembling we shall see emerge     From the bright Ocean at our feet an Earth     More fresh, more verdant than the last, with fruits     Self-springing, and a seed of man preservd,     Who then shall live in peace, as now in war.     But we in Heaven shall find again with joy     The ruind palaces of Odin, seats     Familiar, halls where we have suppd of old;     Re-enter them with wonder, never fill     Our eyes with gazing, and rebuild with tears.     And we shall tread once more the well-known plain     Of Ida, and among the grass shall find     The golden dice with which we playd of yore;     And that will bring to mind the former life     And pastime of the Gods, the wise discourse     Of Odin, the delights of other days.     O Hermod, pray that thou mayst join us then!     Such for the future is my hope: meanwhile,     I rest the thrall of Hela, and endure     Death, and the gloom which round me even now     Thickens, and to its inner gulph recalls.     Farewell, for longer speech is not allowd.     He spoke, and wavd farewell, and gave his hand     To Nanna; and she gave their brother blind     Her hand, in turn, for guidance; and The Three     Departed oer the cloudy plain, and soon     Faded from sight into the interior gloom.     But Hermod stood beside his drooping horse,     Mute, gazing after them in tears: and fain,     Fain had he followd their receding steps,     Though they to Death were bound, and he to Heaven,     Then; but a Power he could not break withheld.     And as a stork which idle boys have trappd,     And tied him in a yard, at autumn sees     Flocks of his kind pass flying oer his head     To warmer lands, and coasts that keep the sun;     He strains to join their flight, and, from his shed,     Follows them with a long complaining cry     So Hermod gazd, and yearnd to join his kin.     At last he sighd, and set forth back to Heaven.

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Poem Details

Language: English
Keywords: Public Domain
Source: Public Domain Collection
Rights/Permissions: Public Domain

Exploring Narrative Poetry

Narrative poetry is a form of poetry that tells a story, often making use of the voices of a narrator and characters as well. Unlike lyric poetry, which focuses on emotions and thoughts, narrative poetry is dedicated to storytelling, weaving tales that captivate readers through plot and character development.


Narrative poems are unique in their ability to combine the depth of storytelling with the expressive qualities of poetry. Here are some defining characteristics:

  • Structured Plot: Narrative poems typically have a clear beginning, middle, and end, following a plot that might involve conflict, climax, and resolution, much like a short story or novel.
  • Character Development: Characters in narrative poems are often well-developed, with distinct voices and personalities that drive the story forward.
  • Descriptive Language: The language used in narrative poetry is vivid and descriptive, painting a clear picture of the scenes and events, while also conveying the emotions and atmosphere of the story.

From ancient epics like "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey" to more modern narrative poems, this form continues to engage readers by blending the art of storytelling with the beauty and rhythm of poetry.