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L.

“These gates thou erst hast pass'd”
Old Orvar cried;

177

“But let thine eye be cast
On every side.
What see'st thou now?”
Not veiling his surprise,
Ragnar beheld a wondrous palace rise,
Stupendous as the fabric of the skies.
Its swelling towers, and spiral spires were lost
In their own loftiness; from east to west
This palace stretched, in one continuous line;
Its glittering front, with glowing gold embost,
Enroofed with silver, and in glory drest,
Its grand aspiring towers, with gems and crystal shine.
Upon no pillars was it placed;
Foundations? none were there,
But like the pendent earth it hung
In the unyielding air.