Siofna, who over sleep presides,
All hearts to peace and love inclines.
“Folkvangur is the place, methinks.
Most suitable to Roska fair;
From danger, oft I’ve seen, she shrinks,
And fails in strength the shield to bear.”
Thus Thor in disappointment said,
Then from the girl her armour takes:
“Give up thy sword! thou peasant maid!
Such weapons ill become thy sex.