From Vingolf Niord was absent, when the mead was handed round,
For while Forsete sat as judge by Urda’s wave profound,
He clear’d the air from vapours foul: where’er extends his power,
Healthy and free each peasant breathes, sickness prevails no more.
Not far from Balder Snotra sat with mild and graceful look:
She blush’d, while from a silver dish small cakes her fingers took;
In gesture, movement, and in speech her gentle grace she blends,
And often to the poet’s lay her soft expression lends.
Hlyn too was there, whom Frigga sends to guard the race of men
From danger, when dark, Surtur spreads his snares o’er marsh and fen.