My heart thou strovest to ensnare;
What was my answer? cold disdain.
I am not changed; and Sif bestows
Once more contempt on all thy vows.
But be advised, and quickly flee!
Thor may return, and on a tree
He’d quick suspend thy odious form,
To dangle in the midnight storm.
The Disa spoke: indignant pride
Inflamed her look; she turn’d aside.