In front of her a goddess sat, whose temper’s diff’rent mould
With that of Gefion contrast forms, as heat compared with cold:
’Twas gentle Siofna, whose blue eyes with love and softness beam,
’Tis she who fills the heart of youth with the first pleasing dream.
Clad in a vest of muscle-shell, with crown of sea-weed green,
Sat Ægir, Ocean’s king: he drank out of a conque marine.
Next to him sat his consort Ran, with temper given to strife:
The timid Disar view with dread Ægir’s ill-favour’d wife.
Harsh-featured was her face, her look malignant, ne’er was she
So joyous, as when vessels sunk in the wide-yawning sea: