Victims of the bloody fray.
Down like tool of paviour fell
Miölner with a pond’rous peal.
Now, reeking with blood, sprang the treacherous Lok
’Mongst the wounded, like Nidding, their miseries to mock;
When he met with a giant all drench’d in his gore
And dying, he laugh’d, and he stabb’d him once more.
Now there reign’d a silence deep,
As when winds and billows sleep
On the coast: with gloomy mien