Naught of thy plan hast thou to Lok imparted.”
He cannot easily digest
Such slights: his soul can find no rest:
Nowhere he feels at home:
And longs once more through the wide world to roam.
Tis flattering to his pride
In arms to follow Asa-Thor,
And carry, by the hero’s side,
The iron gauntlets of the god of war.
As round the oak fast twining thrives