To Heimdal whisper’d his behest;
And quick transferr’d the magic band
Into that faithful Asa’s hand.
Heimdal, he knew, had skill and wit;
To cope with Fenris none more fit:
And next to Lok he boasts the pow’r
In jesting to beguile the hour.
The wit of Heimdal, void of hate
Or malice, bloom’d like violet:
But not innocuous Loptur’s jest,