Go ye to greet the Prince;
For a king who seemeth
A champion cometh

To the hall hither.

Thus sang Kormákr:

The Giver of Lands, who bindeth
The sail to the top, with gold-lace
Honors him who pours god's verse-mead;
Odin wrought charms on Rindr.

Yet has Mímir's friend

On me bestowed

Amends of evil

Which I account better.

He has given me the art-
He, the Wolf's Opposer,
Accustomed to battle,-

Of blemish blameless.

FORD LIBRAR

Here he is called High God, and Friend of Mímir, and
Adversary of the Wolf.

Thus sang Refr:

Swift God of Slain, that wieldeth
The snowy billow's wave-hawks,
The ships that drive the sea-road,
To thee we owe the dwarves' drink.

Thus sang Einarr Tinkling-Scale:

Thus

'Tis mine to pour the liquor

sang

Of the Host-God's mead-cask freely
Before the ships' swift Speeder:
For this I win no scorning.

Úlfr Uggason:

His steed the lordly Heimdallr
Spurs to the pyre gods builded
For the fallen son of Odin,
The All-Wise Raven-Ruler.

This is said in-Eiríksmál:

What dream is that? quoth Odin,—
I thought to rise ere day-break
To make Valhall ready

For troops of slain;

I roused the champions,
Bade them rise swiftly
Benches to strew,
To wash beer-flagons;
The Valkyrs to pour wine,
As a Prince were coming.

Kormákr sang this:

I pray the precious Ruler
Of Yngvi's people, o'er me
To hold his hand, bow-shaking.
Hroptr bore with him Gungnir.

Thórálfr sang this:

The Mighty One of Hlidskjálf
Spake his mind unto them
Where the hosts of fearless
Hárekr were slaughtered.

Thus sang Eyvindr:

The mead which forth
From Surtr's sunk dales
The Strong-through-spells
Swift-flying bore.

So sang Bragi:

'Tis seen, on my shield's surface,

How the Son of the Father of Peoples
Craved to try his strength full swiftly
'Gainst the rain-beat Snake earth-circling.

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
you shall hear how the skalds have termed the
art of poesy in these metaphorical phrases which have been
recorded before: for example, by calling it Kvasir's Gore
and Ship of the Dwarves, Dwarves' Mead, Mead of the
Æsir, Giants' Father-Ransom, Liquor of Ódrerir and of
Bodn and of Són, and Fullness of these, Liquor of Hnit-
björg, Booty and Find and Gift of Odin, even as has been
sung in these verses which Einarr Tinkling-Scale wrought:
I pray the high-souled Warder
Of earth to hear the Ocean

Of the Cliff of Dwarves, my verses:
Hear, Earl, the Gore of Kvasir.

And as Einarr Tinkling-Scale sang further:

The Dwarves' Crag's Song-wave rushes
O'er all the dauntless shield-host
Of him who speeds the fury

Of the shield-wall's piercing sword-bane.

Even as Ormr Steinthórsson sang:

The body of the dame

And my dead be borne
Into one hall; the Drink
Of Dvalinn, Franklins, hear.

And as Refr sang:

I reveal the Thought's Drink
Of the Rock-Folk to Thorsteinn;
The Billow of the Dwarf-Crag
Plashes; I bid men hearken.

Even as Egill sang:

The Prince requires my lore,
And bound his praise to pour,
Odin's Mead I bore

To English shore.

And as Glúmr Geirason sang:

Let the Princely Giver hearken:
I hold the God-King's liquor;