THOR’S FISHING.
On the dark bottom of the great salt lake
Imprisoned lay the giant snake,
With naught his sullen sleep to break.
Huge whales disported amorous o’er his neck;
Little their sports the worm did reck,
Nor his dark, vengeful thoughts would check.
To move his iron fins he has no power,
Nor yet to harm the trembling shore,
With scaly rings he is covered o’er.