Enormous wings adown her shoulders fall:
A fillet broad upon her forehead shone,
With many a mystic rune and strange device thereon.
Green was her garment; towards the fountain now,
Now towards the days to come she turns her eye.
Wrapp’d in a sable shroud with tranquil brow,
But with averted face, sits Urda nigh.
Here with her sisters twain Verdandis too,
Mistress of time, resides: her garment bright
Was interwov’n with scales of various hue.