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Witness earth and heaven my wrong
The God is spoil'd—the mallet gone.
The God is spoil'd—the mallet gone.
III.
They on busiest search intent,
Their steps to Freya's dwelling bent.
Freya! swift for Lok prepare,
Wings to cut the liquid air!
To find my mallet—ev’ry shore,
And skies, and seas shall he explore.
They on busiest search intent,
Their steps to Freya's dwelling bent.
Freya! swift for Lok prepare,
Wings to cut the liquid air!
To find my mallet—ev’ry shore,
And skies, and seas shall he explore.
FREYA.
Tho’ form’d of silver were their mould,
And ev’ry feather tipt with gold;
Yet the rich boon I'd not deny,
To bring to light such villany.
Lok boyant in the purple sky,
Shakes his sounding pinions high,
O’er Asori climes he sails,
Favor’d by propitious gales;
The Asi scarce his track descry,
Lost in the dubious distant sky:
Tho’ form’d of silver were their mould,
And ev’ry feather tipt with gold;
Yet the rich boon I'd not deny,
To bring to light such villany.
Lok boyant in the purple sky,
Shakes his sounding pinions high,
O’er Asori climes he sails,
Favor’d by propitious gales;
The Asi scarce his track descry,
Lost in the dubious distant sky:
