And Utgard-Lok, arch-traitrous fiend,
In his own realm shall vanquish’d be.”
Indignant then he faced about,
While shame and anger tinged his cheek;
The chief of Utgard led him out,
With mind perplex’d and gesture meek:
The mountain deeply sigh’d and mourn’d;
Down rush’d its silv’ry blood amain;
The gate slow on its hinges turn’d,
And Thor once more bestrode the plain.