Hail the task, and hail the hands!

Songs of joy and triumph fing!

Joy to the victorious bands;

Triumph to the younger King.

Mortal, thou that hear'ft the tale,

Learn the tenour of our song.

Scotland, thro' each winding vale

Far and wide the notes prolong.

Sifters, hence with spurs of speed:

Each her thundering faulchion wield;

Each beftride her fable fteed.

Hurry, hurry to the field.

THE

THE

DESCENT of ODIN.

AN OD E,

(From the NORSE-TONGUE,)

IN

BARTHOLINUS, de caufis contemnendæ mortis ; HAFNIE, 1689, Quarto.

UPREIS ODINN ALLDA GAUTR, &c.

S

Niflheimr, the hell of the Gothic nations, confifted of nine worlds, to which were devoted all fuch as died of ficknefs, old-age, or by any other means than in battle: Over it prefided HELA, the Goddess of

Death.

G 4

Him

Him the Dog of Darkness spied,

His fhaggy throat he open'd wide,

While from his jaws, with carnage fill'd,

Foam and human gore diftill'd:

Hoarfe he bays with hideous din,

Eyes that glow, and fangs, that grin;

And long pursues, with fruitless yell,

The Father of the powerful spell.

Onward still his way he takes,

(The groaning earth beneath him shakes,)

Till full before his fearless eyes

The portals nine of hell arife.

Right against the eastern gate,

By the mofs-grown pile he fate;

Where