Facing to the northern clime, Thrice he tracd the Runic rhyme; Thrice pronounc'd in accents dread, The thrilling verse that wakes the deal! Publifhed as the Act directs 15 Aug 1776 Down the yawning fteep he rode, That leads to HELA's drear abode. Him the dog of darkness spied; His fhaggy throat he opened wide, Foam and human gore diftill'd. : Hoarse he bays with hideous din, Eyes that glow, and fangs that grin; And And long pursues, with fruitless yell, The father of the powerful spell. Onward ftill his way he takes, (The groaning earth beneath him shakes,) Till full before his fearless eyes The portals nine of hell arife. Right against the eastern gate, By the moss-grown pile he fat, The duft of the prophetic Maid. Facing to the northern clime, Thrice he trac'd the Runic rhyme; Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread, The thrilling verfe that wakes the dead; Till from out the hollow ground Slowly breath'd a fullen found. PRO PROPHETES S. What call unknown, what charms, presume To break the quiet of the tomb? Who thus afflicts my troubled sprite, And drags me from the realms of night? Long on these 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? ODIN. A Traveller to thee unknown, Is he that calls, a warrior's fon. Thou the deeds of light fhalt know; Tell me what is done below, For whom yon glitt'ring board is fpread, Dreft for whom yon golden bed. PROPHETESS. Mantling in the goblet fee The pure bev'rage of the bee; O'er it hangs the fhield 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. ODIN. Once again my call obey. Prophetess, arife, and say, What dangers Odin's child await, Who the author of his fate. PROPHETES S. In Hoder's hand the hero's doom; His brother fends him to the tomb. Now |