Those lips, which offer to my ravish’d view
Teeth fine as pearls, and whiter far, I trow,
Than any beast of prey can show.
What tumult fires my blood!
Oh! that I could,
While Thor is gone a-fishing far,
Fish him to shame in the same bath with her!
Thus thinks the lustful treach’rous elf,
And still behind the bush conceals himself:
For Sif her dwelling soon will seek,