“How now?” to Hermod thus he said, “have ye two moons at night?
“The light thou takest for a moon,” thus answered Hermod mild,
Is Breidablik; that mansion’s roof with costly pearls is tiled:
There Asa-Balder sits enthron’d the fleecy clouds among;
Hark! how he chaunts with the white Alfs the dulcet vesper song!
“And hark! what thrilling melody the echoing clouds impart!
Like the soft joys of innocence, it melts the coldest heart:
But in the hall below resound laughter and boist’rous glee,
And like the dove before the hawk, the pious tones give way.”
To Vingolf now they both descend; there joy tumultuous reigns: