Alfred :: :: University of Virginia Library

IVAR, the evening before he departs from Denmark with new forces to attack England, consults the Oracle.—Kills a Mariner.—How punished by the illusions of the Witch.—Swears never to take away the life of any unarmed person in the Island to which he is going.—Departs for Britain.

Prepared once more to seek the Saxon land,
Within his father's halls, Ivar now sits,
Musing on future spoils. Around him throng
His wrathful sisters, rousing up his heart
To vengeance 'gainst the race who slew their sire.
At Regner's name, Ivar uprose, his eye
Beam'd fearful indignation, when he cried,

“Death to our foes! My spirit thirsts to see
‘The blood of Saxons flowing, ocean like;
‘The victims of my fury. Lord of war!
‘Odin, immortal chief! thy voice I hear,
‘And like thee, forth I go, to scorn the prayers,
‘And scatter wide the bones, and heap the skulls
‘Of vanquish'd enemies. Death! view in me

‘Thy proudest son, erelong ordain'd to swell
‘Slaughter's rank pile, and for the ravenous wolves
‘Provide new banquets. By the rapturous hope
‘Of one day joining the celestial throng,
‘Amid Valhalla, hearing on all sides,
‘From each brave warrior, gratulations loud;
‘By that eternal hope, here do I swear
‘Mercy to scorn. Let Saxon foes display
‘The pitying heart, and hesitate to strike
‘The vanquished victim. Them no thoughts inspire
‘Of future recompence, when Odin's voice
‘Through every world shall sound, whilst all the ghosts
‘Of untold ages crowd around the thrones
‘Of valiant spirits: when the gods shall cry,
‘Let him who slew the most approach and join
‘Our blissful mansions, at that glorious hour,
‘Ivar with pride shall claim the heritage
‘Reserved for valour. On the Saxons’ head
‘Curses for ever light! Be their land veil'd
‘In everlasting darkness! May their hearts,
‘While unconsumed, Muspelsheim's fires o'erwhelm!
‘Soon shall this sword, to the infernal worlds,
‘Send such an army that all Neflheim's sons
‘Shall rise in triumph; clap their wither'd hands,
‘And, (gazing on their brethren,) shout my praise,—
‘The sworn avenger of his father's wrongs.
‘I haste to seek the conflict.’

‘Wilt thou dare,
‘Thus from our shores to launch,’ Thorilda cried,
‘Ere thou, with homage due, the Sorceress seek,
‘That under the black mountain rests her head,
‘To whom all times are known? Raise not the sword
‘And rashly dare the combat, till thou first
‘Consult the Oracle. Proud Hadrin once
‘Disdain'd the words of Othin, when he said,
‘Curetur, meet not, tyrant as he is,

‘Or thou shalt know captivity. The king
‘Bewail'd his rashness. Be thou wise, and learn
‘From his disaster how to hold the power
‘Of spells and divination.’ Thus the prince.

‘Far other thoughts, Thorilda, have I learn'd
‘From her who bore me, than the impious wish
‘To scorn the Gods immortal, who to some
‘Have given prophetic wisdom. Well I know
‘Where divination dwells,—o'er yonder surge,
‘Out mid the lonely deep. On the next morn
‘I sail for Britain. Dreary now the hour:
‘The night is dark; and chilling blows the wind
‘O'er the vex'd ocean; yet, a heart I boast
‘That never stoop'd to fear; a mailed heart,
‘Invincible, and forth I go, e'en now,
‘To learn my fortunes.’ Instant he arose
And mid applauding voices, to the beach
Pursued his perilous and lonely way.

Thick darkness veil'd the sky, the tempest howl'd.
As o'er the shore he strode, he saw a man,—
A mariner. ‘Well met,’ the warrior cried,
‘Launch out thy bark, for I am bound to find
‘The Sorceress’ habitation. Dost thou know
‘Her secret dwelling?’ ‘Well I know the spot—
‘Her secret dwelling,’ spake the mariner:
‘But, hark! the winds are rising; see the waves
‘Heaving their monstrous heads. At such an hour
‘'Twere death to venture.’ Cried the indignant Chief,
‘Thou dastard spirit, know, thy prince is nigh!
‘Ivar demands thy service. Launch thy bark.’
The man replied. ‘I, by the spell, am bound,
‘No choice is mine. I must deny thy will,
‘And, patient, tread this shore.’ ‘Deny thy prince,’
Ivar enraged exclaim'd, when, to his heart

Wrathful, he plunged his sword! The mariner
Fell lifeless, while the prince pursued his course.
Not long he stray'd ere to another man—
A mariner he came, who pondering stood:
‘Well met,’ cried Ivar. ‘I am bound to find
‘The Sorceress’ habitation: launch thy bark.’
The mariner in silence launch'd his bark,
And o'er the raging billows urged his way.

Now darker grew the crowded atmosphere;
There was no moon on high, and not a star
Peep'd through the ebon canopy: the blast
Rang loud, and now, with roar more terrible,
Swept o'er the foaming waves.

‘But dost thou know,
‘In this tempestuous hour, the certain course?’
Said Ivar, as the spray dash'd o'er his face.
Solemn the helmsman cry'd—‘I know the course.’
More furious howl'd the storm, and in the air,
So black and pitchy, forms appear'd to float,
More black, and of terrific character.
‘But dost thou know the way?’ with falt'ring voice,
Again he ask'd him. Slow the boatman spake,
‘I know the way.’ A moment's calm prevail'd:
The waves, like heaving mountains, held their heads
Suspended in the clouds, to aid the still
And petrifying silence: then, again,
Descended in loud cataracts; the winds
Burst on resistless, and together join'd
Ocean and air t'augment the fearful scene,
Unspeakable. ‘But dost thou know the way?’
Once more inquired the Prince. ‘I know the way,’
In the same tone the mariner replied.
The sea now raved with more transcendent wrath,
And every blast that shook the element
Seem'd like the blast portentous of man's end.

‘I cannot see thy face,’ exclaimed the prince,
‘And whither are we sailing? Fearful man!
‘I know thee not. Speak! I conjure thee speak!
‘Though it may bear a dagger to my heart;
‘This horrid silence chills me.’ Not a word
Answered the mariner, and as the prince
Look'd with dread expectation, suddenly,
A meteor (from thick darkness) blazed around,
And by it, in the helmsman he beheld
The man he murder'd!

Ghastly beam'd his eye;
His cheek was thin and sallow, and the blood
Bathing his mantle, trembling, he beheld;
Whilst, as he gazed, speechless and wild with dread,
The light withdrew, and all again was dark,
Darkness and tempest, and the rushing wind.

Now fast they sped o'er ocean, when a wave
Tossed on a rock the bark. It instant bulged.
Upon the crags Ivar upclimb'd, and look'd
Eager around for shore or shelter; when
Terror consumed his breast; he feared the prize,
Th' immortal prize for which alone he toil'd,
Was then to be caught from him, and these shores,
(The mean inglorious haunt of cowardice,)
Receive that heart which panted but to die
The death of heroes. Whilst the prince thus mused,
A light drew nigh; and now it nearer came,
And still more near. The cause was manifest.
It was a wandering Night-hag pacing slow
The dark and stormy ocean. Ivar cried,
‘Whate'er thou art, oh, roamer of the seas!
‘Grant me thine aid.’ Toward Ivar now she moved,
Raising her lamp, when, by its feeble ray,
He saw his perils. With inquiring gaze
He sought for boat or boatman. Both were gone!

Thro' the thick gloom no form appear'd; and now
O'er broken crags, and sea-weeds, up the shore,
Labouring, he climb'd.

He mark'd the ocean Hag.
Back he recoil'd. Her face was pale as death.
Her bones appear'd, scarce hidden by the skin
That loosely cover'd them, whilst her dark eye
Glisten'd like that of swine, when from half sleep,
In slumbering mood, it casts its eye-ball up
At foot approaching. ‘Hither am I come,’
Cried Ivar, ‘to explore th’ abodes profound
‘Where dwells the Fatal-Sister. Her I seek
‘To commune with upon adventurous deeds,
‘And to inquire, in other worlds, how fares
‘My injured father. I am Regner's son,
‘Ivar of Denmark. Know'st thou of her cave,
‘That I may pay obeisance, and disclose
‘My weighty tale?’

‘Well do I know the spot,’
The Hag replied. ‘From her thou seek'st, I sprang—
‘My potent mother. I beheld thee, far,
‘Toiling amid the waves, and thus approach'd
‘To do thee service. To our vault proceed.
‘But in this boisterous hour, declare who steer'd
‘Thy vessel hither?’ Trembling, Ivar cried,
‘Some haggard fiend; I know him not, his name,
‘Nor whither he is gone. He landed me
‘Upon these savage rocks, and back return'd.’
‘It was our nightly herald,’ spake the Hag;
‘Him we dispatch'd to bring thee to our dome,
‘And thou didst well to follow. Now advance
‘T' explore the depths profound, where I abide
‘In service evermore, save, when I aid
‘The suffering mariner. With ceaseless care
‘I guard all avenues that lead, where dwells
‘The sleeping Sorceress. Mortal, follow me.’

Slowly she strode. Ivar close follow'd her,
When, as they moved, sudden a host of lamps
Thick as heaven's stars, of fearful radiance, blazed,
Making night day.

The spot on which he stood,
Was the rude base of a stupendous rock,
Whose summit midnight hid, whilst here and there
The fatal hemlock started, and the roots
Of living mandrake. ‘Are we not come near?’
Cried Ivar; ‘these most hideous shapes and things,
‘It needeth to be one like thee, to meet,
‘Unterrified.’ They both in silence march.
Th' attendant lamps, high in the rifted crag,
Move on by power unknown: 'till to a cave,
Wide spreading, and impenetrably deep,
Shuddering he came. A shrill and unknown voice
Sounds from within, when the mysterious fires,
Sudden, are quench'd, and all is blackness round,
Save one blue torch, that streaming thro' the air,
Approach'd the Night-Hag. She her hand uprais'd,
And having seiz'd it, bent before the cave,
And mutter'd unintelligible words,
With necromantic airs, and magic spells,
Jarring and ominous, when thus she cried,
‘Prepare to tread these chambers hid in night;
‘Which never mortal foot hath dared profane,
‘Thro' untold ages, save, with special grace
‘Of her who dwells beneath, our potent queen.’
The Hag proceeded. Doubtful stood the prince
Whether to follow, or that instant rush—
He knew not where, but mindful of his name,
Boldly he trod her footsteps.

On they moved
Mid caverns intricate, and lofty vaults,
Where bats and screech-owls and the ravenous crow
Had their safe dwelling; ever flitting by,

Or sending sounds, reverberated far
O'er all the black domain; when to a pit,
Yawning, they came. With sudden bound, the Hag
Leap'd halfway down, standing awhile secure
Upon a jutting stone that overhung
Th' abyss beneath, all black; when, at her call,
A vollying vehicle, and huge, advanced,
Sable as night, round which the trophies hung,
Blood-dripping banners, and the battered helm
Red from the war. ‘Haste!’ cried the guiding Hag.
‘Odin's swift car behold. He favours thee.
‘Stretch there thy limbs, and, to the depths beneath,
‘Descending, prove thy valour and thy heart.’
Ivar the chariot sought. He started back.
Serpent of Midgard to his sight appear'd!
With gore his fangs were clotted, whilst his mouth,
Wide spread, the car presented. ‘Hence! Avaunt!’
Cried Ivar, as he grasped his sword, and aim'd
The death-devoting blow, when instantly
Down the unfathomed void the monster plunged,
And Ivar left, (his heart's-blood rolling back)
Palsied with fear. ‘Ah! doth thy spirit quake?’
Exclaim'd the Hag. ‘Nay,’ answer'd Denmark's prince.
‘Then follow me,’ she cried, ‘with dauntless step,’
And deeper still descended, while her torch
Feebler, and feebler shone.

The edge he sought.
He downward cast an eye, then, fearlessly,
Leaped where the Hag had stood; when, roots he saw,
Shooting their lank and spiral filaments,
Far stretch'd, beneath, that offered feeble aid
To all, the perilous descent who dared.
The Hag still pass'd, scarce seen. Her single torch
Ivar beheld. Behind, he glanced and saw
Impenetrable midnight, and before,
A gulf of depth unknown, whose mouth sent forth

Murmurs and fearful sounds. Again he heard
Faint and more faint, the Hell-Hag's solemn call,
‘Dauntless proceed!’ It was no time to pause;
When, grasping fearlessly the roots, he sprang
From broken step to step, from rock to rock,
And soon his guide o'ertook, who downward still
Moved slowly with her blue and glimmering light.

Strange horrors shook his frame! He saw the light,
The only light, caught by some demon hand,
Gigantic, and, as shuddering he beheld,
It fell, and all was darkness. Tottering now
'Tween earth and Neflheim deep, the prince, a chill,
A cold and numbing chill, through all his frame
Felt creeping, as on either side he gazed,
Yet nothing saw, whilst to his ear there came
One sound alone, his own fast throbbing heart,
Raising faint echoes. Now on earth he stood,
If name it might receive, where all was veil'd
And blank uncertainty. In this suspense,
Searching the inmost heart, his quivering arm
Some unseen being seized! It led him on.
He could not choose;—he follow'd, 'till at length
The hand withdrew, when through the air there rose
A dull and bubbling noise, from some near tide
That wound mid scatter'd crags its sullen wave.

Whilst thus immured in darkness, unconceived,
Unutterable, making even life
Seem death disguised; silent and half perceiv'd,
A boat drew nigh, dividing the dull stream
With gentle motion, that a dubious light,
And fitful, cast around. ‘Why laggest thou?’
Exclaim'd the Hag, who by him stood unseen,
‘Leap fearless to the bark!’—The prince obey'd,
He plung'd into the flood! no boat was there!

The Hag her hand extended, and uprais'd
The struggling prince, when once again, on earth,
He stands, unknowing how. Ivar look'd round.
Once more he sees his guide. Thus she began,
‘This stream is Gioll, through the infernal worlds
‘Rolling his dark tide, which no ray of heaven
‘Hath ever lighted on, nor vent'rous man
‘Touch'd and survived, save thou, and such as thou,
‘Favor'd of spirits kind. The waster Death,
‘When tired of dogging his three ministers,
‘Famine, and war, and pestilence, here hastes,
‘And, plunging in this stream, again revives
‘His appetite for slaughter. Now behold
‘These unexplored domains.’ She scarce had said,
When two huge doors of adamant flew wide,
And to his view displayed the secret vault
Where Divination dwelt.

Spacious it was,
And in the centre stood a cauldron. Fires,
Crimson and purple, streaming upward, spread
Throughout the scene a lustre, blazing now,
Now half extinguished, whilst the chill air blew,
And all was damp and dreary. To the roof,
That frown'd new terrors, looking up, he saw,
Wondering, a raven—with no raven's eye,
And mark'd unsightly shrubs and tapering roots,
Wolfsbane and deadly-night-shade, thick o'erspread
With living things abhorrent, by whose aid,
Or heart, or liver, fibre, or thin scale,
The infernal powers prepared their spells, and made
Chains for unconscious mortals. Whilst his breath
Labour'd with fear, the guiding Hag exclaim'd—
‘Now must I leave thee. Yonder view the spot
‘Where our great mother lies.’ The prince turn'd round
To claim her further service, but her form,
Unknowing how, had vanished, and he stood,

Trembling amid th' fearful solitude.

Round him he gazed, expectant of all harm;
Then, sudden, look'd aghast! A coffin, black,
Slow rising from the yawning sepulchre,
His sight arrested. As he earnest view'd,
He saw the Sorceress! In her narrow bed
Senseless she lay, oppress'd with death-like sleep.
A pall she had, the snows of ages. Her—
The prince approach'd; but when he mark'd her face,
Her still and livid visage, and her eye
That through the thin, thin eye-lid half appear'd,
Back he recoil'd, in terror, but again
Drew nigh her coffin and in tremulous tones
Chanted the runic song.

The Sorceress, slow,
Her form uprais'd, stiff with the cavern's damp,
Half red, half blue, whilst venom'd drops distill'd
Upon her bare head, from the craggy roof,
Where countless reptiles hung, and things unknown,
Scorpion and basilisk and hideous snake,
Forming one mass of life: that, as they moved,
Rapid or slow, gave back the cauldron's light
In ghastly glare. When thus the Sorceress spake,
Rolling her troubled eyes, ‘I hear the call!
‘What mortal dares disturb my long repose,
‘And tread these mansions?’ Stern, she cast her eye,
Her black and shining eye, on Ivar near,
And cried, ‘Who art thou?’ Shuddering, thus the prince.
‘Searcher of fate to whom all times are known,
‘Regard thy servant. Hither am I come
‘To ask thy counsel. Say, oh Prophetess!
‘Where is my murdered father, he who hoped
‘To die in battle, fighting to obtain
‘The meed of valour; but, in evil hour,
‘Seiz'd, and in dungeon slain?’

Her fearful eyes
Around she rolled, then spake in solemn tone,
‘Mourn not, Oh, man! thy father; he is safe.
‘I know thee well. Thy father late I led
‘To Odin's halls, and never such a shout
‘Heard I at warrior's entrance. He is there,
‘On sparkling thrones of gold: and from the skulls
‘Of vanquished enemies he quaffs his mead,
‘And feasts with the immortals. Now depart,
‘And leave me to forgetfulness.’ He cried,
‘Sorceress, first hear me; to the distant war,
‘I forth am going; many a gallant Dane
‘With me hath vowed to cross the ocean-waves,
‘And drench his sword in blood, and glut his rage
‘With spoil and carnage. May I thither go,—
‘And what the issue?’ Slowly thus she spake.
‘I know thy resolution, but, Oh, prince!
‘Regard the Destinies! If there thou go,—
‘Denmark no more shall see thee! Now depart,
‘And leave me to forgetfulness!’ ‘Oh stay,’
Exclaim'd the Prince. ‘One only question more;
‘And I will leave thee. Canst thou not bestow
‘Some charm, some secret charm of powerful might
‘That shall protect my fortunes? girdle, cap,
‘Or minister to guard me?’

‘None,’ she cried.
‘No minister can guard thee! I had once
‘An earthly servant who was wont to stalk
‘Upon the neighbouring shore, when howl'd the winds,
‘And dash'd the waves, and huge Hresvelger flapp'd
‘His wing, and woke the tempest. That brave man
‘Might readily have served thee. His it was
‘To watch the storm, and when the furious surge
‘Cast on the shore some shipwreck'd mariner,
‘All stiff and cold, he hither brought his corse
‘To feed yon beings,—pendant from the roof

‘That on thee look, thus furious;’ when, his mouth,
Each open'd wide. The Sorceress thus again,
‘Son of the upper world, look not amazed
‘At these my words: yon starving family
‘Must have some flesh and blood! He is no more
‘Who would have served them. A portentous noise,
‘Thrice echoed, lately rush'd across the dome;—
‘It was his spirit! Some hell-haunted man
‘Had murdered him!’ When thus aloud she cried,
‘Why startest thou? Ah! is thy dagger stain'd?
‘What blood is that, and wherefore this dismay?
‘If thou would'st save thy miserable life—
‘Turn to the north.’ Ivar obedient turn'd,
When on a dark and distant crag he spied
Two twinkling fires. They toward him came. His heart
Shrank with dismay; for now, a reptile form,
Gliding, drew near. As Ivar earnest look'd,
Beneath his sight it grew, large and more large!
And now appear'd, a hideous monster, huge,
Of serpent kind, with human countenance,
And on the prince he fix'd his steady gaze.
Ivar beheld the murdered mariner!
His gory garb appear'd! He started back!
And, wistless what he did, approach'd the Hag,
And her stone tenement, still holding out
His trembling hands. He touch'd the Witch's arm!
'Twas ice! all ice! when sideway leaping far,
His eye strings snapp'd, and on the hideous sight,
On either side, his twisted eye-balls glared.
Loud, from the roof, the raven flapp'd his wing!
His claws the scorpion shook! the serpent hiss'd!
While a deep groan,—came from the earth beneath!

O'erpower'd by agony of fear, the prince
Awhile stood motionless; when 'mid the pause,
He heard a rushing noise, like warring waves

Rending the ground below. Downward he looked,
When, on each side, he saw a ravine, deep,
O'er which his foot half hung, and in the gulf
Conflicting torrents, such as when some whale
Or ocean monster lashes the great deep.
The Sorceress spake. ‘Prince, on my words attend.
‘To distant wars thou goest; think of me.
‘If Denmark's shore thou leave, thou never more,
‘No, never, shalt return! Upon yon rock,
‘High over-head, I see thy name combined
‘With Death and Saxons.’ Faltering, cried the Prince,
‘Check not my thirst of glory. Say not nay.
‘My heart upon revenge hath fed so long,
‘And I have nursed with such full ecstasy
‘The hope of vengeance, that, though death be mine,
‘I must subdue the Saxons, and with blood
‘Wipe out my many wrongs! My valiant sire,
‘Regner, they murder'd; I, revenge, have sworn.
‘This sword was his, and, if I use it not,
‘How shall I meet my father? Think again
‘And if for death thou hast one antidote,
‘Deal it I pray.’

The Sorceress cried, ‘Thy mind
‘Knows not to change its purpose; like heaven's bow
‘Once, and for ever bent; but, if thou still
‘With stubborn heart resolve to cross the seas,
‘Here take these threads. Thy sisters, three, require
‘To weave them in a standard, and display—
‘Yon Raven! Power shall it possess to screen
‘From hidden dangers, and no human force
‘Against thee shall prevail, while thou possess
‘This potent safeguard. Now, no more inquire,
‘Or I my wand will raise, and from the ground
‘Call up unnumber'd spirits, huge, and fierce,
‘And terrible to look on; these shall drag
‘Thy soul to Hela.’ After a brief pause,

Again she spake. ‘Behold'st thou yonder form,
‘Whose sight thou startedst at? Hither he comes,
‘To learn my bidding.’ To the Witch he crawl'd,
And, heaving from the earth his crested neck,
‘Bent o'er her coffin; when the Sorceress spake.
‘Spirit, untimely slain! a mortal man
‘Now stands before me. To the wars he hastes,
‘Far o'er the seas, and many a wrathful deed
‘His hands will perpetrate. He now must pass
‘Through these mysterious vaults; be thou his guide.

‘From this abode, three paths conduct to earth:
‘One, to the right, a plain and smooth ascent,
‘Where the wild chaplet crowns the barren rock,
‘And odours wander. One, the second way,
‘O'er crags is found, all black, mid aged moss,
‘Coeval with the world, in which there hide
‘Contending reptiles infinite, whose eyes
‘Like thine are bright. The third approach to earth
‘Lies thro' an avenue, at whose dark mouth
‘Two furious toads opposing stand and cast
‘Their deadly venom ever, scattering round
‘A slime, from which steams up the pestilence
‘That gives them life and spirits to renew
‘The rancorous warfare. Should one drop descend
‘Upon this mortal, all the powers combined,
‘Thro' Neflheim's realms, would vainly him preserve
‘From black perdition. Wide the passage spreads,
‘And terminates in gates, the which to touch
‘With this thy sting will burst, and then appears,—
‘The terrible ascent. The gates expand
‘Midway the pit, and o'er each step there hang
‘Black jutting rocks, trembling with every breath,
‘Held by the tangled ivy. To the eye
‘A light appears, a red uncertain light,
‘But whence it comes is hidden, for no lamp

‘Nor fire is there; while nothing can be grasp'd
‘To aid the scared and trembling supplicant,
‘But what thou dealest. Upward is the road,
‘But, in the way, if once the traveller
‘Should cast a sudden glance, down the deep void,
‘A sight there is, two dragons climbing fast
‘The dark abyss, with fangs of living fire,
‘And eyes that feed the lightning. If thine aid
‘One moment should withdraw, hope ceases, down
‘The victim falls, the dragons following hard,
‘But, never to o'ertake, till to the shades
‘He plunges, where the tortured spirits howl.’
Again she spake. ‘These paths thou knowest well,
‘Thou art unbodied, and no power have they
‘To hurt or hinder thee. Receive thy charge.
‘Conduct him hence, through either avenue,
‘At thy disposal. Swift!’ the Sorceress cried,
And sank back in her coffin, which, again,
Thro' the expanding earth, a fearful chasm,
Descended slow.

As now he speechless stood,
The cauldron's fires expired! Throughout the vault
No ray appeared, no solitary ray,
Save where the serpent crouch'd! Beneath his scales
There shone a glow-worm light, whose feeble beams
Midnight refused to share, and sent them back
Close to their source.

Ivar distracted stood,
Gnashing his teeth. He heard no sound, save one,
The clanking of some distant chains, nor saw
Aught but thick darkness when he feebly cried,
‘Odin! Oh! grant me one soul-cheering ray!’
His voice yet linger'd in the air, when lo!
A deaf'ning noise surrounded, and there rush'd
Athwart the night profound, lightnings so fierce,

All forked, casting far so bright a glare,
That by their aid he saw, till then unknown,
The cave's extent. His curdling blood stood still!
He laugh'd with fear; for near him he beheld
A raving demon, chain'd, of monstrous size,
Biting his fetters, foaming, mad with rage
To see his prey, yet, by his iron bands
Restrain'd from vengeance. As he trembling stood,
A sudden flash of unimagin'd light
O'erwhelm'd his eye-balls, when it burst and spread
Its vivid lines; whilst, ever as he looked,
A fiercer flash, resentful, darted near,
And when he thought on death, exploded, loud,
Sending its host of thunders through the cave.

Wild with excess of dread, he closed his eyes
The hideous sight to 'scape. Whilst trembling, thus
In utter night, some being at his back
Pull'd heavily, when loud the prince exclaim'd,
‘A thousand worlds to save me! Guide me hence,
‘Oh injured spirit! Guide me from this scene
‘Of horrors infinite, and I to thee
‘ Will give my esarthly all!”

The serpent spake,
‘There was a time when baubles such as these
‘Would well have pleased me; but, a ghost become,
‘I heed them not. Within my power thou art,
‘And thou shalt learn how terrible my wrath.
‘I leave this dwelling; close attend my track,
‘And know, that if thou wander but a hair,
‘Death yawns to have thee.’—Slow the serpent moved,
And as he moved, a shining slimy track
Mark'd his curv'd path. Ivar upon it walk'd
Through windings many, fearing at each step
Sudden destruction! Now they both arrived
Where the three turnings stood. The prince beheld,

One fill'd with fierce combustion; heard with dread
Th' unsightly monster's roar. Aghast he turn'd,
And in the other path—the path he came,
Saw darkness, save where creeping reptiles' eyes
Glared on him. Then he look'd, and, to the right,
Descry'd the third ascent: no fire was there—
No angry reptile, but half light it was,
The steps distinct and clear, the distance short,
And at the top, shone the blue firmament.
The serpent cried—‘Mortal! Now, follow me!’

What transport Ivar felt, when he beheld
His guide wind slowly up the favour'd way
That shone so bright and lovely; and they came
Into heaven's day-light! Fill'd with joy supreme
The prince turn'd round to pour his gratitude,
When, with a spirit half congeal'd, he saw
The gory mantle! In his breast he felt
Biting remorse, which made him close his eyes
With inbred pangs, and when again he turn'd
To pour th' o'erflowing heart, no guide appear'd;
No mouth of yawning cavern: both were gone:
Vanished; and all was solitude around.

Now in his mind, new apprehensions rose.
The strange and desolated scene, displayed
A character, scarcely allied to earth.
It seem'd the spot where ruin dwelt alone;
For, as he gazed, on either side, alike,
Fragments of lofty rocks encircled him,
Forming one waste of stone, all wild and bare,
That, through succeeding ages, crumbling fast
By rains and winter frosts, from the tall peaks
Came roaring down the precipice, and spread
O'er all the valley, crags and shatter'd spars
High-heap'd and massy—such as shadow'd forth

(To the wild fancy of the wondering prince)
Nature exploded by those central fires,
Following on Surtur's reign, when all that is
Shall sink in chaos. Hastening from the scene,
Tho' doubtful where, at length, with joy, he marked
The ocean near him, casting on the shore
Its sweeping lines of foam, advancing slow,
With murmurs faint, and of such equal sounds
That silence scarce perceived them.—To the beach
He hasten'd, and o'erjoyed beheld a ship
Fast sailing near at hand. He cried ‘Approach!’
The prince was known—he bounded to the bark,
And safe it bore him to his distant home.

No tongue might tell the doubts and cankering fears,
That on the sisters prey'd, when night far waned,
And yet the prince—reach'd not his father's halls.
No sleep o'ertook them, whilst in every sound
They heard his voice, or footstep, and arose
With heart exultant, then again return'd,
Languid and soul oppressed, to listen on
Till morn illumed the air. No Ivar then
Drew near to cheer them. Towards the boisterous wave
Lashing the shore, still patiently they gazed.
Ah! they behold him! From the beach, at hand,
Solemn he paced, and now before them stands.

No word he spake! a dark and settled gloom
Hung o'er his brow. ‘What ails thee?’ one exclaim'd.
‘I have seen sights,’ he cried, ‘so horrible;
‘Such sights of shadowy forms, and things unknown,
‘And past conception, that my swimming eyes
‘Seem chain'd to serpents; through my yielding brain
‘They to and fro glide on—all fire and slime,
‘And ghastly scales. Are ye my sisters, true?
‘My real sisters? Yea, I know you now.

‘The hell-hag, where is she? I see her not!
‘Ah! is she gone?’

The sisters trembling cried,
‘What dreams are thine? that thou should'st thus afflict
‘Thy soul and ours. What vision hast thou seen?’

‘Tis past,’ the prince exclaim'd. ‘It is all o'er.
‘My brain is cool'd. It was a sudden fit
‘That half o'erpower'd me. What! do ye inquire
‘The sight that moved me? 'twas a hellish sight!
‘My feet have been to one, 'mid rocks and fires,
‘Down to earth's centre: haggard was her look,
‘Her bed a coffin, and her progeny
‘Huge broods of serpents: from her icy touch
‘I still am cold. My harrow'd soul hath felt,
‘Since last we met, a shuddering weight of woe!
‘Dangers of known extent this heart had spurn'd;
‘But, conflicts with the unseen powers, whose might
‘And habitudes are all uncertainty;
‘This hath extorted from proud Regner's son,
‘The trembling knee. Yet, listen once again,
‘To the dread mansion of all evil things,
‘A ghost conveyed me! Ivar made him such!
‘A ghost defended me! now, here I swear,
‘By this unconquer'd sword; by all the Gods
‘That throng the halls of Valhall: day and night
‘Feasting on Scrimner, mid the dance and song,
‘Warfare and tales of death; by Odin's self
‘Here do I swear, e'en by my sword of might,
‘Never, from this good moment, in the Isle,
‘Whereto I go, one soul to slay, save him
‘Who dares the battle, and in armour bold
‘Opposes my dominion; I have borne
‘For one poor murder, such huge punishments,
‘And freezing dread. Yet, do I scarcely know,
‘Whether the sights that kindled up my fear

‘Were real, or the baseless phantasies,
‘Th' illusions of some sorceress in disguise.
‘Oh! they were true! and I my oath repeat
‘With ten-fold more solemnity.’—

Aloud,
The sisters all exclaim'd, ‘We mark thy oath!
‘Oh, Ivar! we do tremble at thy tale!
‘But, hast thou seen the sorceress? and now, say,
‘What are thy future fortunes?

He replied.
‘These were her words. “Thy sisters three I know;
‘Their spells must aid thee. Tell them to prepare;
‘A banner tall, wrought with these magic threads,
‘That shall display a raven. Guard it safe!
‘It has a secret charm.’ The cords I held
‘Close in my grasp, but they are gone! all gone!
‘I know not whither. Haste! a standard weave;
‘The raven dark be on it; let the web
‘Be strong and durable, and I will bear
‘That standard to the wars.’

He scarce had said,
When the three sisters spread the woof and warp,
And whilst they thought upon it, lo! 'twas done.
‘Now, cried th' exultant prince, ‘I hear a voice
‘That tells me I shall vanquish, and display
The might invincible. The banner near,
Eager he grasp'd. and Starchaterus like,
In pride pre-eminent, stalk'd toward the shore,
Where, in their war array, his army stood,
Impatient, waiting to behold their chief,
Who thus address'd them.

‘Heroes! far renown'd
‘O'er all Helsingia, Gothland, and the coasts,
‘And far as farthest Scythia,—hear my words!
‘For other conquests, and, more glorious feats,
‘Prepare your heart. From Britain's far-off shore

‘I late return'd to Denmark, you to rouse,
‘And bear to that devoted Isle, whose crimes
‘No offering shall atone, nor aught allay
‘The tempest of our passion. Have we yet
‘Borne wrongs from any nation, unrevenged?
‘And shall we Saxons spare, whose coward hands
‘Slaughter'd my father, your victorious king?
‘Never, till earth be vanish'd, warriors brave!
‘Their doom is fix'd! Alfred their prince shall fall
‘The victim of our wrath, and we will make
‘That isle a desert—curs'd of gods and men:
‘The day fast hastens to begin the work
‘By us so loved, and we will laugh to see
‘Their pleading looks; and when they mercy ask,
‘Think but of murder'd Regner. View the fleet!
‘Advance! The hour of vengeance draweth near.’

'Mid frantic looks of hate, and boiling rage,
Untameable, they join their barks, and now,
Mid songs and shouts, before the favoring gale,
Across the seas to Britain steer their course.