Since high enthroned on Ida's fateful plain
Sat Odin, when the Northmen hither roved
They chose this throne-like hill for him they loved,
Here o'er Valhalla should the great god reign;
Hard by ran Mimir's fountain, whither, fain
To know if Heimdals warning could be proved,
When Asgard trembled and the earth was moved
By Ragnarok, went Odin, but in vain.
Fountain of sorrow, hill-top dark with fate.
The cloud pavilions reared upon thine height,
The stars that tremble o'er thee, speak of woe;
Yet this of solace have we, that we know
Neither the day we shall be desolate,
Nor that dread hour when o'er us falls the night.
Sonnets Round the Coast by Hardwicke Drummond Rawnsley. Pub. 1887
thanks to Graeme Chappell