True, love will vanish from the earth; but where, I pray, the loss,
Since hate no longer will exist our hearts to plague and cross?
Heimdaller’s Bifrost then will lose its variegated hue,
No more display its gorgeous rays, red, yellow, green, and blue:
Those colours will together blend, and form a dingy grey;
And toads within their moss-grown pools will sing like thrushes gay.”
At this proposal Freya’s breast with indignation swell’d,
And thus with words of bitter scorn Lok’s project she repell’d:
“Were Freya to the giant’s land disposed to go with thee,
Must Freya terribly, forsooth, in want of husband be.”