weep, Long his lofs fhall Erin * Ne'er again his likeness fee; Long her ftrains in forrow steep, Horror covers all the heath, 48 Clouds of carnage blot the fun: Mortal! thou that hear'ft the tale Sifters! hence with spurs of speed; *Ireland. 52 56 60 64 ODE VIII. THE DESCENT OF ODIN. FROM THE NORSE TONGUE. To be found in Bartholinus, decaufis contemnendæ mortis; Hafnia, 1689, Quarto. Upreis Odinn Allda gautr, &c. UP rofe the king of Men with speed, And faddled ftraight his coal-black steed; Down the yawning fleep he rode The father of the pow'rful spell. (The groaning earth beneath him shakes,) Till full before his fearless eyes 15 The portals nine of hell arife. Right against the eastern gate, By the mofs-grown pile he fate, Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, confifted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all fuch as died of ficknefs, old age, or by any other means than in battle: over it prefided Hela, the goddess of Death. Where long of yore to fleep was laid Thrice he trac'd the Runic rhynie, Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread, 20 The thrilling verse that wakes the dead, 25 Slowly breath'd a fullen found. PROPH. What call unknown, what charms pre To break the quiet of the tomb? [fume Who thus afflicts my troubled fprite, 30 And drags me from the realms of Night? Who is he, with voice unbleft, 35 PROPH. Mantling in the goblet fee The pure bev'rage of the bee, 45 50 Leave me, leave me to repofe. ODIN. Prophetefs! my spell obey; Once again arife, and fay, Who th' avenger of his guilt, By whom fhall Hoder's blood be spilt? Flaming on the fun'ral pile, ODIN. Yet a while my call obey: Prophetefs! awake, and say, 60 65 70 PROPH. Ha! no traveller art thou; King of Men, I know thee now; Mightieft of a mighty line—————— ODIN. No boding maid of fkill divine Art thou no prophetess of good, But mother of the giant-brood! PROPH. Hie thee hence, and boast 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 re-affum'd her ancient right, Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd, 94 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, the fun, fhall disappear, the earth fink in the feas, and fire confume the fkies; even Odin himself, and his kindred deities, fhall perish. For a farther explanation of this mythology, see Introduction a l' Hiftoire de Danemarc, par Mons. Mallat, 1755, 4to; or rather a tranflation of it published in 1770, and entitled Northern Antiquities, in which some mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected. |