The maid accompanied the god,
With confidence of joy and pride.
The goddess praised her graceful air,
Her shape, her eyes, her youthful bloom
And from that moment Roska fair
Remain’d for aye in Folkvang’s dome.
Now Thor to Valhall hastens on,
With Tialf his swain in armour clad;
Odin beholds him from his throne,
And hails his son with accents glad.