or he my eyelids lifted,
Disclosing I had chance of rest--of dying!
E'en Surtur, he whose hostile fingers planted
The tree, the black tree, by the feeble starlight;
Who nurs'd its infant root with blood fresh taken
From slaughter'd babes, and drew a circle round it,
And mutter'd magic words, and gave it power
To shoot the bane of Nastroud in my bosom,
Was not so cruel as thyself, O Nanna!
What! cruel? No, by Odin! Pity drove him
To rear up remedy benign and grateful
For the dire wound with which thou torment'st me.
Ah, maid! thou mak'st me look to death with longing
And yet to die! and die from thee! and never--
Ha! my heart freezes! The mere word would kill me!
But then, most likely thou wilt pity Balder,
And with a hot, a precious tear bedew him!

Say, O maid! when thou dost pour
From thine eyes the briny shower
O'er a lifeless lump of clay!
Cease thy weeping, cruel maiden:
All thy grief is vainly vented:
See the breast so long tormented
Which thy pity now should gladden,
Beats no more and rots away!
O Nanna! Nanna!

[He sits down and holds both his hands before his eyes.

LOKE (in the shape of an old Finman). Balder!

[He walks in a crooked attitude, and supports himself upon a knotted
staff. He enters so that his back is turned to BALDER.

Help, ye gods of heaven!
Oh, I unfortunate! that frost and hunger,
And fear of bears and wolves and evil spirits
Should now destroy me on these frightful mountains!
Oh, that I but beheld a smoke uprising,
A single trace of a bewildered hunter!
That I but heard a cheery horn resounding!
But nothing, nothing! Never, never rises
A friendly sound among these wildernesses,
Which human feet till now has never trodden.
Ah! who will succour me?

BALDER (goes towards him and takes him kindly by the arm). What ails
thee, father?

LOKE (as if terrified). Aha! I can no more! Ah!

BALDER. Come and rest thee!
Here lean upon my arm!

LOKE. Ah!

BALDER. How thou tremblest,
My hoary friend! But cast thy terrors from thee--
There thou art safe: this breast is warmed by pity.

LOKE. Forgive me, sir; forsooth, I was confounded!
Thou see'st in me a poor and ancient Finman.
Far, far away from these terrific mountains,
This year I built of flags and stones my hovel;
I sought for reindeer--all my wealth; they doubtless
Were captured by the bear! I, wretched being!
My sight is feeble, and the night surprised me;
The wind, as I obser