Page:Icelandic Poetry or the Edda of Sæmund (1797).pdf/229

Ere repast or bowl regale,
Tell thy long expected tale.
Me forlorn and ill at ease,
Legends long have ceas’d to please:
Thor, reposing on his bed,
Has long on hope’s spare diet fed.

LOK.
I the hateful thief have found!
’Tis hid eight miles beneath the ground:
He the mallet shall retrieve,
Who to Thrym shall Freya give.

XII.
To beauteous Freya soon they brought,
Tidings with no joyance fraught.
Thor commands the unwilling fair
Nuptial garments to prepare:
Together we, the hero cry’d,
Must to the Jötni regions ride.

XIII.
Passion in Freya’s cheek glow’d hot;