Some clever and ingenious wight; and where on earth’s vast round
More proper for this task than Lok can any one be found?
Besides, unknown to ye no doubt, I’ve often proved your friend,
And to some gratitude from ye I may with right pretend:
But howsoe’er with pitying eye my sufferings ye regard,
In my own conscience, in my heart I find my best reward.”
Then Thrymur answer’d, laughing loud: “What means this canting speech?”
With pious look and honied words thinkst thou to overreach
Us giant champions, as ye catch the larks with berries red
Behind a net of horse-hair fix’d, and ’bout the meadow spread?