The fount calls to its water: “Swell and flow!”
The blast loud whistles through the arid leaves.
Homeward with joy now hie the Asar twain,
For well the Nornor’s speech they comprehend:
They oft repeat the heart-consoling strain,
While floating in the air they swift ascend,
And eager still their course towards bright Valhalla bend.
“When bravery shall fickle time compel
To constancy, shall health fly home again
Upon the wings of love.” Thus through the dell