This vestibule to a vast hall
Conducts them, where they now behold
The wretches deaf to honour’s call,
Whom Helheim’s bars imprison’d hold.
Along the wall pale phantoms flit,
Who groan and shake with aguish fit!
Palsies, catarrhs, and fevers grim
Prey on each agonizing limb.
When Thor advanc’d, they wept and whined;
Down their wan cheek a cold sweat flows!