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FRITHIOF’S SAGA 107
Did thy bright disc belong to me,
A shield for Frithiof it should be!"
"O Lamp in Odin’s halls of bliss,
Pale Moon, with gentle ray of peace,
Thy fairest beams, if thou wert mine,
To deck my Ingeborg should shine!"
But Hilding said," My foster-child,
Check this young fondness, vain and wild;
Unequal lots forbid the Nome,
And royally is Ingborg bora.
"From Odin, in his starry home,
Her ancestors descended come;
Thou art but Thorsten’s son; forbear,
Since but the great should greatness share."
"My sires lie," Frithiof proudly said,
"In the dark valley of the dead;
But the falling wood-king left to me,
With his shaggy hide, his ancestry.
"The free-born man, ne’er yieldeth he;
The world belongeth to the free.
What chance hath lost may chance repair,
And Hope a royal crown may wear.
"Full nobly born descendeth power
From the great Thrudvang-dwelling Thor:
He heeds not birth, but valor true,
And mightily the sword can sue.
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