For when the reaper’s scythe at dawn of morn
Blithesome resounds, thy greatest triumph then
Is hail’d with rapture by the sons of men.
’Tis far more cheering to their hearts to hear
The scythe’s shrill sound, than clang of shield and spear,
To do Thor homage in his proud career.”
“Ah! what avails my boasted power and pride,
If it can naught effect (thus Frey replied)
Than causing trees to shoot and corn to grow?
What boots my form divine and radiant brow,