On rides the Valkyrie; she knows where to chuse
The bravest midst thousands of slain;
She dismounts; bids them rise; then her course she pursues,
Till she reaches the Asar’s domain;
With pride she parades them still reeking with gore,
Still scarr’d with deep gashes, great Odin before.
Her armour now doffing, at Valfader’s feast,
Crowned with roses, in purple array’d,
The Valkyrie shines, and presents to each guest
The goblet high brimming with mead;