So now in haste up springing, he loudly shouted! “Peace;
Good tidings now I bring ye: all strife and hate shall cease:
Giants and gods no longer eternal war shall wage;
The bosom melts with kindness, that once throbb’d high with rage.
The heart of Thrymur beats with love; the object of his flame
Is Freya; to the rocks and woods he sighs out Freya’s name.
And when athwart the birch-trees he views her glorious fane,
And marks her spindle sparkling with many a yellow skein,
The female, thinks the giant, who such a quantity
Of flax can spin, must truly a clever housewife be.