With the dew-clad grass so green:
Lambkins frisk and bleat delighted,
Nibbling leaves from ev’ry thorn;
There in richest clover revel
Oxen fat with crumpled horn.
Now the giant woke, and casting
Round his eyes of fiery hue,
In a corner Thor discovered,
Like a weak-limb’d lad to view.
“Ha! who into Hymir’s dwelling