Odin again felt vigour in his arm,
And Thor once more aloft his hammer held.
Again the sun lent to the moon its gold,
And lit anew the radiant rings on high.
Mimer no more his brow in wrinkles roll’d:
Balder no longer, madness in his eye,
Raved incoherent strains, wild gazing at the sky.
And lo! obscures the sky a vision vast,
Awful, but not unpleasing to behold!
’Tis Thiasse! who his prey pursuing fast