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 Above and below the giants' paths lay, So rashly I risked my head.

Gunnloth gave on a golden stool A drink of the marvelous mead; A harsh reward did I let her have For her heroic heart, And her spirit troubled sore.

The well-earned beauty well I enjoyed, Little the wise man lacks; So Othrörir now has up been brought To the midst of the men of earth.

Hardly, methinks, would I home have come, And left the giants' land, Had not Gunnloth helped me, the maiden good, Whose arms about me had been.

The day that followed, the frost-giants came, Some word of Hor to win, (And into the hall of Hor;)