The table was a slab of ice, the dishes they were cold,
And when they were uncovered I shuddered to behold,
For some were human corpses that had perished in the snow,
Or in the glacier's crevices had met their fate below.
My heart then sank within me, and I from the table turned.
The guests all looked in wonderment, that I their dishes spurned.
The King then turned upon me. "Though our dishes you decline,
You must not leave this hall to-night before you taste our wine."
He bid a menial near to fill a goblet to the brim,
And as he filled a ghastly smile played o'er his features grim.
The King then raised it to his lips, and first a draught drank he;
The giant goblet carved in ice he handed then to me.
I seized the beaker in my hand, and raised it to my lip;
And cautiously I tasted it, although 'twas but a sip.
I laid the crystal down in haste, as horrified I stood.
The liquor that the goblet held I found was human blood!
The King of Ice he marvelled, and his brow grew grave and stern,
His eye would seem to ask me, "Dost thou thus my favour spurn?"
I trembled, for I noticed when the icy monarch frowned
The reflection of his countenance upon the court around.
Each drew a pointed icicle from out an icy sheath,
They wore as daggers at their sides—for fear I scarce could breathe—
And brandishing them high aloft, while as their hands they clenched,
They vowed that such gross insult should not pass unavenged.
"Ho! sheath your daggers," quoth the king. "Once more our guest we'll try.
Base mortal! if thou still refuse to drain yon goblet dry,
Then dread our fell displeasure, for by our crown we vow,
The King of Glaciers ne'er is mocked by mortals such as thou."
I seized the goblet once again, and in despair did quaff.
Now through the banquet hall resounds a wild unearthly laugh.
The nauseous fluid seemed to burn like fire through my veins
I felt intoxication stealing o'er me for my pains.
I fell down in a stupor, know not how long I lay,
But when my eyes were opened 'twas past the break of day.
The King and court had vanished, but around me I descried
A troop of tourists, who that morn the glaciers would bestride.
They asked me how I came there, how I could be so mad,
Alone to scale the glaciers, upon a night so bad.
I told them shortly all my tale—all I had got to tell—
About the awful Glacier King, down in his icy cell.