Page:Poeticedda00belluoft.djvu/151

 Be like to the thistle that in the loft Was cast and there was crushed.

"I go to the wood, and to the wet forest, To win a magic wand; -lacuna- I won a magic wand.

"Othin grows angry, angered is the best of the gods, Freyr shall be thy foe, Most evil maid,  who the magic wrath Of gods hast got for thyself.

"Give heed, frost-rulers, hear it, giants. Sons of Suttung, And gods, ye too, How I forbid  and how I ban The meeting of men with the maid, (The joy of men with the maid.)