To the storm-ruling powers, the war-gods of the North.
But wilder sounds were there: th’ imploring cry
That woke the forest’s echo in reply,
But not the heart’s! Unmoved the wizard train
Stood round their human victim, and in vain
His prayer for mercy rose; in vain his glance
Look’d up, appealing to the blue expanse,
Where in their calm immortal beauty shone
Heaven’s cloudless orbs. With faint and fainter moan,
Bound on the shrine of sacrifice he lay,