Page:Völsunga Saga (1888).djvu/129

 “Beer bring I to thee,
 Fair fruit of the byrnies’ clash,
 Mixed is it mightily,
 Mingled with fame,
 Brimming with bright lays
 And pitiful runes,
 Wise words, sweet words,
 Speech of great game.

 Runes of war know thou,
 If great thou wilt be!
Cut them on hilt of hardened sword,
 Some on the brand’s back,
 Some on its shining side,
Twice name Tyr therein.

 Sea-runes good at need,
 Learnt for ship’s saving,
For the good health of the swimming horse;
 On the stern cut them,
 Cut them on the rudder-blade
And set flame to shaven oar:
 Howso big be the sea-hills,
 Howso blue beneath,
Hail from the main then comest thou home.

 Word-runes learn well
 If thou wilt that no man
Pay back grief for the grief thou gavest;
 Wind thou these,
 Weave thou these,