Page:Icelandic Poetry or the Edda of Sæmund (1797).pdf/230

Cold tremors thro’ her bosom shot:
To her wan eye, the tidings threw
On all things round a saddening hue:
The heaving bracelet on her breast
The sorrows of her soul confest.
But yet, she cries, I’ll not refuse
Man’s best privilege to use;
Consent with you to go, I give,
To confines where the Jötni live.

XIV.
The Asi and Asiniæ state,
Were now conven’d in close debate;
How they to Elorrid might restore,
The mallet he possess’d of yore.

XV.
Heimdaller, wise Asori son,
First the high consult begun:
(Ofttimes he the mists withdrew
That hid futurity from view,)
Let us, he cries, the chief adorn,
With that bright veil at nuptials borne;