The fragile bark; but Thor around his loins
Tighter and tighter still his girdle twines:
Naught fears the god, whom heroes all revere;
He puts forth all his strength, and shines without compeer.
Towards him he pulls his prey with effort rude;
The serpent writhes, his jaws are fill’d with blood;
The bark is swamp’d; but lo! on shallow ground
The chief already has a station found,
And drags the monster forth from the abyss profound.
The monster shakes and bellows; from his eye