Whate’er in Heimkringlas
Is found most precious, rare, and fine,
Was join’d to build our race.
The finest oaks must flourish tall,
Be fell’d, and cut in faggots small,
When fuel we require
To feed the nuptial pyre.
“Therefore, that first ye saw the light,
Ye giants proud! ’tis true;
Yet Bor, our ancestor, in fight