And look’d out at the wide expanse, and gazed upon the moon:
She sigh’d with longing, but for what, she could not rightly tell;
She felt so warm, that from her breast she doff’d the silken veil.
The moon benignant shone; it seem’d towards earth its course to lower,
And sent strong rays of light within the lovely Gerda’s bower:
She thought it was the sun of night, the silver-helm-clad moon,
But it was Asa-Frey himself peeping from Hlidskialf’s throne.
Now when, by sleep oppress’d, her limbs upon the couch she laid,
Frey wish’d a thousand times good night to the bewitching maid.
Descending then from Hlidskialf’s tower, he strait began to rove.