Who on her beauty’s vanish’d spring looks back with inward grief.
She heard her brother’s plaintive sigh. “Unfortunate,” she said:
“Why didst thou Hlidskialf’s tower ascend? hath magic turn’d thy head?
Were I in all my glory now a Disa, as before,
In the dark vales of Jotunheim naught would avail my power.
“And if it could, would Odin e’er permit Frey to espouse
A giantess? hath he not long for Eir reclaim’d thy vows?
The Disa, who when Idun fair in Valhall takes her seat.
Gives health to all the Asar’s blood with liquor from the beet.”
“Odin cannot compel my choice,” her brother answer’d sore,