“This fetter was forged, O Skirnir, hear!
(The birds on the trees sing sweet)
Of the beards of woman; the nerves of bear;
Of the noise of a kitten’s feet;
“Of the breath of birds; of fishes’ scum;
(On the flowrets the dew-drops shine)
Of the roots of rocks; with finger and thumb
Have we full’d this wondrous line.”
Now from them the swain took the magic chain,
(The sunbeams redden the sky)