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 A seventeenth I know, so that seldom shall go A maiden young from me;

Long these songs thou shalt, Loddfafnir, Seek in vain to sing; Yet good it were if thou mightest get them, Well, if thou wouldst them learn, Help, if thou hadst them.

An eighteenth I know, that ne'er will I tell To maiden or wife of man,— The best is what none but one's self doth know, So comes the end of the songs,— Save only to her in whose arms I lie, Or who else my sister is.