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 Smite the skull of Hymir, heavy with food, For harder it is than ever was glass."

The goats' mighty ruler then rose on his knee, And with all the strength of a god he struck; Whole was the fellow's helmet-stem, But shattered the wine-cup rounded was.

Hymir spake: "Fair is the treasure that from me is gone, Since now the cup  on my knees lies shattered;" So spake the giant: "No more can I say In days to be,  'Thou art brewed, mine ale.'

"Enough shall it be if out ye can bring Forth from our house  the kettle here." Tyr then twice to move it tried, But before him the kettle twice stood fast.

The father of Mothi the rim seized firm, And before it stood on the floor below; Up on his head Sif's husband raised it, And about his heels the handles clattered.