Calmly to what I shall unfold, and learn
From me thy future fate! Though all creation
To ashes burn, yet that which is eternal
No flame consumes; ’tis only the foul mask
That bursts, and falls to dust.
I sing to thee
A song of heavy import, “the World’s End.”
Into Valhalla’s realm shall find its way
Corruption leagued with pain: with splendour false
Dazzled your eyes become, like those of man: