While under thy feet the fishes swum,
And birds in the air flew o’er thy head.
GESTUR.
I yesterday drank, but water ’twas not,
Nor any pottage with liquid drench’d,
Nor wine, nor beer, nor mead was my lot,
Yet my burning thirst was easily quench’d.
SKIRNIR.
Beneath a tree thou didst lay thee down.
While the dews of night all creation drench’d;