« ПредишнаНапред »
Long his lofs fhall Erin * weep,
Horror covers all the heath,
Clouds of carnage blot the fun:
Hail the task and hail the hands!
Mortal! thou that hear'ft the tale
Sifters! hence with fpurs of speed;
THE DESCENT OF ODIN.
FROM THE NORSE TONGUE.
To be found in Bartholinus, decaufis contemnendæ mortis;
Upreis Odinn Allda gautr, &e.
UP rofe the king of Men with speed,
And faddled ftraight his coal-black steed;
(The groaning earth beneath him thakes,)
The portals nine of hell arife.
Right against the eastern gate,
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 rhyme,
Thrice pronounc'd, in accents dread,
The thrilling verfe that wakes the dead,
Slowly breath'd a fullen found.
PROPH. What call unknown, what charms pre
To break the quiet of the tomb?
Who thus afflicts my troubled fprite,
And drags me from the realms of Night?
Who is he, with voice unbleft,
Dreft for whom yon' golden bed?
PROPH. Mantling in the goblet fee
The pure bev'rage of the bee,
Unwilling I my lips unclofe;
Leave me, leave me to repose.
ODIN. Once again my call obey:
Prophetefs! arife, and fay,
What dangers Odin's child await,
Who the author of his fate?
PROPH. In Hoder's hand the hero's doom;
His brother fends him to the tomb.
Now my weary lips I close ;
Leave me, leave me to repofe.
By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt?
Flaming on the fun'ral pile,
Now my weary lips I close;
ODIN. Yet a while my call obey:
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 prophetefs of good,
But mother of the giant-brood!
PROPH. Hie thee hence, and boast at home,
Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd,
Lok is the evil being, who continues in chains till the twilight of the gods approaches, when he shall 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 translation of it publifhed in 1770, and entitled Northern Antiquities, in which fome mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected.