Then dreams of bliss the dying old man soothe;
Immortal strains console his parting hour,
And to bright Gimle’s realm the awful passage smooth.
“If in my power thou’lt place the beauteous wife
Of Bragur, with her vessel rare of gold,
I’ll give thee liberty again and life,
And loose thee from this mountain-prison cold.”
“Well then,” quick answer’d Lok, “I swear, I swear.”
“Nay!” Thiasse grim replied with bitter mock,
“Thy ape-like oaths and vows thou well mayst spare;