Without thy aid the task would idle prove.
So sure and simple is the stratagem,
I need not pluck those apples from their stem,
Thou needst but touch them with thy fingers white,
They’ll instant fall into thy vessel bright.”
These runes he carv’d, and with the staff he flew
To th’ arbour in the grove across the sea,
Where sat Iduna with her eyes of blue,
Under the shade of her own apple-tree.
Mindful of wondrous scenes, she fix’d her look