“He is there, he is there, with his shadowy frown!
But gone from his head is the kingly crown—
The crown from his head, and the spear from his hand—
They have chased him far from the glorious land
Where the feast of the gods is spread!
He must go forth alone on his phantom steed,
He must ride o’er the grave-hills with stormy speed!
His place is no longer at Odin’s board,
He is driven from Valhalla without his sword;
But the slayer shall avenge the dead!”