The mistletoe, that supple parasite,
And strength and growth therefrom derives:
Thus Asa-Lok, the artful wight,
Clings to the god, although with hate
He views him; hoping some bright beam
Of Thor’s renown on him may gleam,
And shed some lustre on his humbler state.
As, gleaning from the sun its light,
The moon dispels the gloom of night:
Thus doth the cunning Loptur aim