Hler Ægir sits upon his throne,
With sceptre emblem of his might:
His silver helmet, gleaming bright
With crest in form of Dragon shone.
Yet from this helm so fair to view
Oft came a soul-appalling sound;
’Twas like the tempest howling through
The hollow of a rock profound.
I’ th’ middle of the festive hall,
For night had now obscured the earth,