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ARNLJOT GELLINE
Seeking to grasp him,
Gray were they all, the trolls and the goblins,
Wry of feature.
Then with an outcry
Shrill he awakened, —
But from the gloomy and narrow passages
Back the cry echoed.
He started in terror, then he fell back.
Started again, and loudly shouted,
Hardly knowing what he was doing, —
From the recesses
Heard he the echoing raucous laughter.
Slumber-drunken, he sought to explore,
To learn what were housed here of evil powers.
Light crept in with the dawn of day,
Stronger the stench and the outcry waxed,
And with sight to the shadow accustomed,
Meet now his gaze
— Wherever it strays—
Eyeballs sparkling,
Glowing, yellow,
Like red-hot coals his view confronting.
Slowly before him the mists took shape,
First as wool-gray fog-banks rolling,
Took then as bodies form and color,
Beast on beast,
Great and small,
All the kinds in the forest nursed.
Crept had they hither by ways tempestuous,
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