Page:The Prose Edda (1916 translation by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur).pdf/157

 :And the honor-lessener
 * Of the Lady of the Sea-Crag
 * Won foot-hold in the surging
 * Of the hail-rolled leaping hill-spate;
 * The rock-knave's swift Pursuer
 * Passed the broad stream of his staff's road,
 * Where the foam-flecked mighty rivers
 * Frothed with raging venom.


 * There they set the staves before them
 * In the streaming grove of dogfish;
 * The wind-wood's slippery pebbles,
 * Smitten to speech, slept not;
 * The clashing rod did rattle
 * 'Gainst the worn rocks, and the rapid
 * Of the fells howled, storm-smitten,
 * On the river's stony anvil.


 * The Weaver of the Girdle
 * Beheld the washing slope-stream
 * Fall on his hard-grown shoulders:
 * No help he found to save him;
 * The Minisher of hill-folk
 * Caused Might to grow within him
 * Even to the roof of heaven,
 * Till the rushing flood should ebb.