Whose faith lasts through eternity,—
Was not his love to beauteous Nanna
As pure, as warm, as mine to thee?
“‘His image see!—himself broods o’er it—
How mild, how kind, his bright eyes move!
An off’ring bear I here before it,
A warm heart full of purest love.
Come, kneel with me! no altar incense
To Balder’s soul more grateful is
Than two hearts, vowing in his presence