"Hugin and Munin
Each down take their flight
Earth's fields over."

Nobler birds, these dark ravens of the Northern Jove, than the
bolt-bearing eagle of his Grecian brother. So much deeper, more
significant, and musical are the myths of the stern, dark, and tender
North than those of the bright and fickle South!

Notwithstanding that Valhalla was full of invincible heroes, and that
the celestial city of Asgard was the abode of the chief gods, still it
had a watchman who dwelt in a tower at the end of the Bridge Bifröst.
Heimdall was his name, and he was endowed with the sharpest ear and eye
that ever warder possessed. He could hear grass and wool grow with the
utmost distinctness. The AEsir, notwithstanding their supreme position,
had need of such a warder, with his Gjallar-horn, mightier than the
Paladin Astolfo's, that could make the universe reëcho to its blast.
The truth was, over even the high gods of Asgard hung a Doom which was
mightier than they. It was necessary for them to keep watch and ward,
therefore, for evil things were on their trail. There were vast,
mysterious, outlying regions beyond their sway: Niflheim or Mistland,
Muspellheim or Flameland, and Jötunheim, the abode of the old
earth-powers, matched with whom, even Thor, the strongest of the Asen,
was but a puny stripling. Over this old Scandinavian heaven, as over
all ethnic celestial abodes, the dark Destinies lorded it with
unquestioned sway. From the four corners of the world, at last, were to
fly the snow-flakes of the dread Fimbul, Winter, blotting the sun, and
moaning and drifting night and day. Three times was Winter to come and
go, bringing to men and gods "a storm-age, a wolf-age." Then cometh