And Balder mark’d it in his bright abode:
With bitter tears see Mimer’s fountain flow!
The sap no longer gives the kernel food.
And Balder, gentle-hearted as a maid,
Visited Mimer in his cavern cold:
At once the rueful change they both survey’d:
’Twas night, and Balder sat with locks of gold,
His once unruffled brow in gloomy wrinkles roll’d.
’Twas easy to perceive all joy was fled;
Each goddess had her youth and beauty lost.