AN ODE,

(From the NORSE-TONGUE)

IN

BARTHOLINUS, de caufis contemnendæ mortis ;

HAFNIE, 1689, Quarto.

UPREIS ODINN ALLDA GAUTR, &c.

THE

DESCENT OF ODIN.

AN ODE.

UPROSE the King of Men with speed,

And faddled ftrait his coal-black steed;

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

Him

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

Him the Dog of Darkness spy'd,

His fhaggy throat he open'd wide,

While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd,
Foam and human gore diftill'd :
Hoarfe he bays with hideous din,
Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin ;
And long purfues, with fruitlefs yell,
The Father of the powerful fpell.

Onward ftill his way he takes,

(The groaning earth beneath him fhakes)

Till full before his fearless eyes

The portals nine of hell arife,

Right against the eastern gate,
By the mofs-grown pile he fate;
Where long of yore to fleep was laid
The duft of the prophetic Maid.
Facing to the northern clime,

Thrice he trac'd the Runic rhyme;

Thrice

Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread,

The thrilling verse that wakes the Dead ;

Till from out the hollow ground

Slowly breath'd a fullen found.

PR. What call unknown, what charms prefumc To break the quiet of the tomb ?. Who thus afflicts my troubled fprite,

And drags me from the realms of night?
Long on thefe mould'ring bones have beat
The winter's fnow, the fummer's heat,
The drenching dews, and driving rain!
Let me, let me fleep again.

Who is he, with voice unbleft,

That calls me from the bed of reft?

O. A Traveller, to thee unknown, Is he that calls, a Warriour's Son.

Thou