A Dwarvish Day

Hail the hall-stone, high-pillared gem-gens,

Whom Bor's fallen foe's broken bones

Restore from stench to polished stones!

Hail brindle-brows of breathtaking peaks

Whose carved caverns are hill-castles,

Peacock-plumed with precious jewels,

And lined with long-ages forged luxuries!

Hail the slumber of sleeping Mim's sons,

Who arms at arm's length awesome wait

To take up polished tusk and try their might

To guard the green gown of Earth's skirts

Beneath which nether treasures gnoll ;

The ancestors' antique grave-guardians of old

Who bless the buried bones with art

Enjewel-joying their nether journeys

From wisdom to wisdom, and wyrdwards.

Hail tawny traders in teardrops of Freya,

Stone-strung in blissful bright of jewel-strangle,

Nurtured each in one night nether-tumble

Of tantric tingle of teased-out genius!

Hail the hoard-holders of Jord!

Who grow in granite gardens marvels from the deep!

Soul of solemn depth-ceremonies

Held in the harvest of holy Hel-shrines!

Today the dearest dead return to visit,

To choose their cheer in charming feasts! Hail!