ODIN. Once again my call obey. PROPHETESS. In Hoder's hand the hero's doom; ODIN. Prophetess, my spell obey, Once again arise, and say, Who the' avenger of his guilt, By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt? PROPHETESS. In the caverns of the west, By Odin's fierce embrace compress'd, 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, 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! PROPHETESS. Hie thee hence, and boast at home, That never shall inquirer come To break my iron sleep again; Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain; 3 Lok is the Evil Being, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches; when he shall break his honds; the human race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and fire consume the skies! even Odin himself, and his kindred deities, shall perish. For a further explanation of this mythology, see "Introduction à l'Histoire de Dannemarc, par Mous. Mallet,' 1755, quarto; or rather a translation of it published in 1770, and entitled 'Northern Antiquities;' in which some mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected. THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN'. A fragment. FROM THE WELSH. OWEN's praise demands my song, Big with hosts of mighty name, Dauntless on his native sands 1 From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsh Poetry, London, 1764, quarto. Owen succeeded his father Griffin in the principality of North Wales, A. D. 1120. This battle was fought near forty years afterwards. 2 North Wales. 3 Denmark. 4 The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his descendants bore on their banners. In glittering arms and glory dress'd, Echoing to the battle's roar. Check'd by the torrent tide of blood, THE DEATH OF HOEL'. HAD I but the torrent's might, With headlong rage and wild affright Upon Deïra's squadrons hurl'd To rush and sweep them from the world! 1 From the Welsh of Aneurim, styled the Monarch of the Bards. He flourished about the time of Talliessen, A. D. 570. This Ode is extracted from the Gododin. See Mr. Evans's Specimens, p. 71 and 73, Too, too secure in youthful pride, |