To Ægir’s hall he barr’d my way,
But I chastised his insolence:
The slave must, true, his lord obey,
But expiate oft his lord’s offence.
ODIN.
How darest thou, wretch! without a blush
Invade the Asar’s brilliant sphere?
Thou ne’er shalt be invited here!
Thou screeching owl behind the bush!
Avaunt! thou kill-joy! quick retreat,