There he left his car and leopards:
Freya sits, to grief a prey,
Sad, despairing,
Wildly staring
At the heaven’s expanse, or dark blue sea.
Never more the Asar race beheld him;
To his Vaner he return’d again.
Golden tears now shed the wretched Freya,
When she gazed upon the stormy main.
Though she found again her beauty,