On the blower’s hand now he took his stand,
And began his skin to prick;
But he prick’d in vain, the dwarf felt no pain,
For his skin was hard and thick.
But behold! the steed (’twas for Frey decreed)
Burst forth from amidst the flame,
And the form it bore of a huge wild boar,
And Gyllinbörste its name!
When dark is the night, and no stars give light,
It a meteor’s shape assumes;