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j FRITHIOF’S SAGA 212
Sweeter than ever,
The tones of his song.
Vanadis, listening,
O’er the board leaneth;
Glowing, her snowy
Bosom doth heave.
" High sing the clashing
Of sword upon helmet,
Murmuring billows,
Heaving in blood:
And might, the good gift
Of the happy immortals,
Which, keenly as Berserk,
Biteth the shield.
"Therefore, by us was
Ring well-beloved:
His shield ever guarding
Regions of peace.
Whence the loveliest image
Of might unoffending,
Before us, like incense,
Forever arose.
"Words of deep wisdom
Valfader speaketh,
Sitting by Saga,
Soquaback’s maid.
So the words sounded
Of Ring ever clearly,
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