Go ye to greet the Prince; To the hall hither. Thus sang Kormákr: The Giver of Lands, who bindeth Yet has Mímir's friend On me bestowed Amends of evil Which I account better. He has given me the art- Of blemish blameless. FORD LIBRAR Here he is called High God, and Friend of Mímir, and Thus sang Refr: Swift God of Slain, that wieldeth Thus sang Einarr Tinkling-Scale: Thus 'Tis mine to pour the liquor sang Of the Host-God's mead-cask freely Úlfr Uggason: His steed the lordly Heimdallr This is said in-Eiríksmál: What dream is that? quoth Odin,— For troops of slain; I roused the champions, Kormákr sang this: I pray the precious Ruler Thórálfr sang this: The Mighty One of Hlidskjálf Thus sang Eyvindr: The mead which forth So sang Bragi: 'Tis seen, on my shield's surface, How the Son of the Father of Peoples Thus sang Eínarr: Since less with Bestla's Offspring Prevail most lordly princes Than thou, my task is singing Thy praise in songs of battle. Thus sang Thorvaldr Blending-Skald: Now have I much In the middle grasped Of the son of Borr, Of Búri's heir. III. "Now Of the Cliff of Dwarves, my verses: And as Einarr Tinkling-Scale sang further: The Dwarves' Crag's Song-wave rushes Of the shield-wall's piercing sword-bane. Even as Ormr Steinthórsson sang: The body of the dame And my dead be borne And as Refr sang: I reveal the Thought's Drink Even as Egill sang: The Prince requires my lore, To English shore. And as Glúmr Geirason sang: Let the Princely Giver hearken: |