With midnight drawing nigh.
But Odin and his bloodhounds
O'ertake him on his way;
He sees their shadowy figures,
He hears their hellish bay.
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His brow grows cold and pallid,
His limbs are chilled and dead;
And in the lightning flashes
They rage above his head.
And with a fiendish struggle,
And with a fiendish cry,
He breaks his earthy shackles,
And joins them as they fly.
Z.