UPROSE the king of men with speed, Down the yawning steep he rode, Onward still his way he takes, (The groaning earth beneath him shakes,) Till full before his fearless eyes The portals nine of hell arise. Right against the eastern gate, Thrice he traced the Runic rhyme ; PROPHETESS. 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? Who is he, with voice unblest, That calls me from the bed of rest? ODIN. A traveller, to thee unknown, Is he that calls, a warrior's son. Thou the deeds of light shalt know; For whom yon glitt'ring board is spread, PROPHETESS. Mantling in the goblet see Unwilling I my lips unclose: Leave me, leave me to repose. ODIN. Once again my call obey, Prophetess, arise, and say, What dangers Odin's child await, PROPHETESS. In Hoder's hand the hero's doom; ODIN. Prophetess, my spell obey, Once again arise, and say, Who th' avenger of his guilt, By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt ? PROPHETESS. In the caverns of the west, Now my weary lips I close: Leave me, leave me to repose. ODIN. Yet a while my call obey; Prophetess, awake, and say, What virgins these, in speechless woe, That bend to earth their solemn brow, That their flaxen tresses tear, And snowy veils that float in air? Tell me whence their sorrows rose : Then I leave thee to repose. PROPHETESS. Ha! no traveller art thou, King of men, I know thee now; Mightiest of a mighty line—— ODIN. No boding maid of skill divine Art thou, nor prophetess of good; But mother of the giant brood! |