Have shed upon the warrior’s tomb.
I come to break the sacred rest
The grave has heaped upon thy breast;
The daughter of a warlike name,
And deeds of glory—here I claim
The sword of more than mortal fire,
That fiercely armed thee, royal sire!
That drank Hialmar’s murderous breath,
And held at every point a death.
All hushed? Are Andgrym’s fiery race,