Hrym steers from the east, the waters rise, the mundane snake is coiled in jotun-rage.

The worm heats the water, and the eagle screams; the pale of beak tears carcases; the ship Naglfar is loosed.

Surt from the south comes with flickering flame; shines from his sword the Val-god's sun_.'" Swaying there like a furred Valkyrie above the final carnage of men and gods, she touched his imagination, and the blood surged exultingly along unknown channels, thrilling and uplifting.
"'_The stony hills are dashed together, the giantesses totter; men tread the path of Hel, and heaven is cloven.

The sun darkens, earth in ocean sinks, fall from heaven the bright stars, fire's breath assails the all-nourishing tree, towering fire plays against heaven itself_.'" Outlined against the blazing air, her brows and lashes white with frost, the jewel-dust striking and washing against hair and face, and the south-sun lighting her with a great redness, the man saw her as the genius of the race.

The traditions of the blood laid hold of him, and he felt strangely at one with the white-skinned, yellow-haired giants of the younger world.