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PROSE the King of Men with speed,

And saddled strait his coal-black steed ;

Down the yawning steep he rode,
That leads to * Hela's drear abode.


* Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, confifted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all such as died ris fickness, old age, or by any other means than in battle : Over it presided HELA the Goddess of Death.

Him the Dog of Darkness spy'd,


His shaggy throat he, open'd wide,
While from his jaws, with carnage fill’d,
Foam and human gore distillid :
Hoarse he bays with hideous din,
Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin ; .
And long pursues, with fruitless yell,
The Father of the powerful spell,
Onward still his way he takes,
(The groaning earth beneath him shakes)
Till full before his fearless eyes
The portals nine of hell arise.

Right against the eastern gate, By the inoss-grown pile he sate;

Where long of yore to sleep was laid
The dust of the prophetic Maid.
Facing to the northern clime,

Thrice he trac'd the runic rhyme ;


Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread,
-The thrilling verse that wakes the Dead;
Till from out the hollow ground
Slowly breath'd a fullen sound.

Pr. What call unknown, what charms presume To break the quiet of the tomb? Who thus affli&ts my troubled sprite, And drags me from the realms of night? Long on these mould'ring bones have beat The winter's snow, the summer's heat, The drenching dews, and driving rain! Let me, let me sleep again. Who is he, with voice unblest,

That calls me from the bed of rest ?

O. A Traveller, to thee unknown,

Is he that calls, a Warriour's Son.


Thou the deeds of light shalt know ;
Tell me what is done below,
For whom yon glitt'ring board is spread,
Dreft for whom yon golden bed ?

Pr. Mantling in the goblet see
The pure bev'rage of the bee,
O’er it hangs the shield of gold;
'Tis the drink of Balder bold :
Balder's head to death is giv'n.
Pain can reach the Sons of Heav'n!
Unwilling I my lips unclose :

Leave me, leave me to repose.

O. Once again my call obey.
Prophetess, arise, and say,
What dangers Odin's Child await,
Who the Author of his fate?


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