Thrymur’s breast with amorous fire.
Then the goblet-bearing swain
Enter’d midst the festive train.
Now with hydromel sparkling each goblet he fill’d;
Now into the hall rush’d the giants so wild:
With flames now the cheeks of each other they smutted,
And, like rams, with the horns on their temples they butted.
Eager now to join the feast
Towards the board each giant prest:
Much they stared the bride to see