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In poets this liability to be possessed by the creations of their own brains is limited and proportioned by the artistic sense, and the imagination thus truly becomes the shaping faculty, while in less regulated or coarser organizations it dwells forever in the Nifelheim of phantasmagoria and dream, a thaumaturge half cheat, half dupe. What Mr.
It nourished all life, even that of Nedhog, the most venomous of serpents, which continually gnawed at the root that penetrated Nifelheim. A second root entered the region of the frost giants, where was the well in which wisdom and understanding were concealed.
Muspelheim, or Flameland, and Nifelheim or Mistland, lay without the organized universe, and were the material regions of light and darkness, the antagonism of which had produced the universe with its gods and men. Nifelheim was a dark and dreary realm, where Hela, or Death, ruled with despotic sway over those who had died ingloriously of disease or old age.
I think how Odin hung and looked down into Nifelheim, and then of how hot, how deliciously hot, it was away down there, and then the mist closes over it. I shiver and go back to camp, for night is coming on, and I know my men will require intellectual support in the matter of procuring firewood.
In the various regions of gods, giants, dwarfs, and men, in the striking variety of characters, the great and wise Odin, the mighty Thor, the good Balder, the malicious Loke, the queenly Frigga, the genial Freya, the lovely Iduna, the gentle Nanna in all the magnificent scenery of Midgard, Asgard, and Nifelheim, with the glorious tree Yggdrasil and the rainbow bridge, the poet found inexhaustible scope for poetical embellishment, and he availed himself of it all with a genuine poet's power.
"I was snowed over with snow, And beaten with rains, And drenched with the dews; Dead have I long been," murmured the Vala to Odin in Nifelheim, and whispers of a similar import seemed to rise up from the lidless coffin before us.
Materialism and Idealism; Theism and Atheism; the doctrine of the soul and its mortality or immortality appear in the history of philosophy like the shades of Scandinavian heroes, eternally slaying one another and eternally coming to life again in a metaphysical "Nifelheim." It is getting on for twenty-five centuries, at least, since mankind began seriously to give their minds to these topics.
"A superb being," she said, with a long breath; "there's the easy strength of a Greek demi-god in every tread." "He seems to me more like Thor in Nifelheim," I said, "being, no doubt, half a Viking to begin with." "They are all the same, as people tell us now," she said, smiling. "Any way, he looks as if he was a waif from the heroic age. But, my dear, did not I hear him call you Lucy?"
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