"To ONE already have your vows been framed; and would you bow to another? You have pleaded to heaven's high King; and would you plead to man? Rise up, and follow me." The virgins rose; they had not power to stay,--and followed him, alas! they knew not whither. They had no voice to question or complain. Door after door they passed; gate after gate; and still their guide touching them with his golden rod, they closed in jangling fury. Onward still they moved, and met the heathen bands, led by their chiefs, Hongar and Hubba. They were drunk with wine; and loudly did they halloo when they saw their prey escaped, and walking on the street all beauteous and serene: Closing around the fugitives, and jabbering uncouth terms and words obscene, the chiefs opened their arms to seize the helpless three. Just then their guide turned round unmoved, and waving his bright rod, the heathens staggered, uttered mumbling sounds, and, trying vainly to support themselves, reeling they sunk enfeebled to the earth, where all as still and motionless they lay as piles of lifeless corpses. How the virgins wondered at what they saw! and fearless now they followed their bright leader. Next they met the priests of Odin, in their wild attire, marching in grand procession to the scene of mighty sacrifice. Aloft they bore their hideous giant idol; by his sides his loathsome consort and his monster son, Freya and Thor, while all their followers sung this choral hymn in loud and warlike strains: HYMN TO ODIN. I. HE comes! he comes! Great Odin comes! Who can rise or stand before him? The god of the bloody field, The sword, and the ruddy shield; The god of the Danes, let all adore him. II. Wake the glad measure to The goddess of pleasure too, Who fills every hero with joy and with love! And hail to dread Thor, Great son of great sire, The quaffer of gore, And the dweller in fire: The god of the sun, and the lightnings above. III. Prepare! prepare! The feast prepare, Since mighty Thor our guest shall be: Three times three, And three times three, This day shall bleed for repast to thee! IV. Strike the light, Make the flame burn bright, Since Freya is here who gives delight! Three times three, And nine times nine, This day shall bleed on altar of thine. V. Shout and sing, Till the mountains ring! The father of men, and of gods the king! See him advance With sword and lance; Billows of life-blood, heroes, bring! VI. God of Alhallah's dome! God of the warrior's home! Who can withstand thee in earth or heaven? Bring to his altar then, Of Christian dames and men, Nine times nine, and seven times seven. VII.