Since each ingredient’s here at hand,
A good repast Lok’s genius will procure;
Fat oxen in the meadow lowing stand;
Like the red fox, give but the word,
I’ll hie me to the peasant’s pantry board;
To baste our meat his butter will I steal,
At his expense we’ll make a glorious meal.
“In the meanwhile an ox must Hœnir slay,
And with its tepid blood refresh the earth;
Then with his dagger’s point the carcase flay,