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Thou the deeds of light fhalt 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 fee
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 unclofe:
Leave me, leave me to repose.

O. Once again my call obey.
Prophetefs, arife, and say,

What dangers Odin's Child await,
Who the Author of his fate?

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PR. In Hoder's hand the Heroe's doom:

His Brother fends him to the tomb.
Now my weary lips I close :
Leave me, leave me to repose.

O. Prophetess, my spell obey,
Once again arise, and say,
Who th' Avenger of his guilt,
By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt.

PR. In the caverns of the west,
By Odin's fierce embrace compreft,
A wond'rous Boy fhall Rinda bear,
Who ne'er shall comb his raven-hait,
Nor wash his vifage in the fiream,
Nor fee the fun's departing beam;
Till he on Hoder's corfe fhall fmile,

Flaming on the fun'ral pile.

F

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Now

Now my weary lips I clofe:
Leave me, leave me to repose.

O. Yet a while my call obey,
Prophetess, awake, and say,
What Virgins thefe, in fpeechlefs woe,
That bend to earth their folemn brow,

That their flaxen treffes tear,

And fnowy veils, that float in air.

'Tell me, whence their forrows rose : Then I leave thee to repose.

PR. Ha! no Traveller art thou, King of Men, I know thee now, Mightieft of a mighty line

O. No boding Maid of skill divine Art thou, nor Prophetess of good! But Mother of the giant-brood!

PR.

PR. Hie thee hence, and boaft at home,

That never shall Enquirer come
To break my iron-sleep again :

Till Lok has burft his tenfold chain.
Never, till fubftantial Night

Has reaffum'd her ancient right;

Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd,
Sinks the fabrick of the world.

THE

Lok is the evil Being, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches, when he fhall break his bonds; the human race, the ftars, and fun, fhall difappear; the earth fink in the feas, and fire confume the fkies: even Odin himfelf and his kindred deities fhall perish. For a farther explanation of this mythology, fee Mallet's Introduction to the Hif tory of Denmark, 1755, Quarto.

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