Now on Sifia fair Thor fasten’d the hair;
It took root like sea-weed on rocks:
Down her lovely face, fraught with ev’ry grace,
It fell down in luxuriant locks.
At Valhalla’s Ting to Odin the ring
Was tender’d with homage due;
And Lok this time was pardon’d his crime,
But too soon he sinn’d anew.
