Loki he flew in the rustling fell
Out of the halls where the Aesir dwell
To Jôtunheim. On a howe sat Thrym,
King o’ the giants, a-twisting trim
Golden bands for his hounds of speed,
And smoothing the mane of his trusty steed;
And this is the word that first he said:
“What of the Aesir? What of the Elves?
Why art thou come to the Giant’s door?”
“’Tis ill with the Aesir, ill with the Elves!
Say, hast thou hidden the hammer of Thor?”
“Yea, I have hidden the hammer of thunder
Eight full fathoms the earth down under;
No man shall win it in all his life
Until he shall bring me Freyja to wife.”
Loki he flew in the rustling fell
Out of the halls where the Giants dwell,
Until he came to Asgard’s bound,
And Thor in the midmost garth he found.
And this is the word that first he said:
“What tidings, toiling, hast thou won?
For a man that sits tells a stumbling tale,
And a man that lies, a lying one.”
“News for my toiling do I bring;
Thrym has thine hammer, the Giant’s king,
No man may win it in all his life
Until he take him Freyja to wife.”
To Freyja the fair their way they take,
And this is the word that first he spake:
“Bind on thy bridal-veil amain,
For to Jôtunheim we must fare, we twain.”
Wroth was Freyja! she caught her breath—
The hall of the Aesir shook beneath,
The Brising necklace snapped in three.
“Marriage-mad is the name for me
If to Jôtunheim I fare with thee!”
All the Aesir to council went,
The mighty ones to parliament,
Gods and goddesses, all in wonder
How to win back the hammer of thunder.
It was Heimdall spake amain,
Whitest of gods, the wily Wane:
“Now bind on Thor the veil so fair,
The Brising necklace let him wear;
Hang round him many a clinking key,
Let woman’s weeds fall to his knee;
Jewels broad on his breast shall shine,
And neatly shall ye the topknot twine!”
Up spake he, mightiest at need:
“Call me a coward’s name indeed
If ever I wear a woman’s weed!”