Fair Sif in beauty and in grace.
Sif cannot boast that mild soft beam
In th’ azure eye, that melts all hearts,
E’en like the moon, when it imparts
To beechen grove its silver gleam;
Strong limb’d and with majestic mien,
She shines a lofty heroine;
And Sif all tongues aloud proclaim
A true high-minded northern dame.
Her shoulders broad so milky white,