"Thou Earth, who in the spring-time fair,
Bedeck'st with flowers thine emerald hair,
Give me the best; in wreaths I'll wind them,
And round my Fridthjof's brow will bind them."
"Thou sea, who mak'st thy dark caves bright
With myriad pearls' refulgent light,
Give me the best; I'll weave the clearest
A necklace for my Ing'borg dearest."
"Thou ornament of Odin's throne,
Eye of the world, O golden sun,
Wert thou but mine, thy blazing splendor
I'd give a shield to my defender."
"Thou guide in Odin's house at night,
Thou pale moon with thy lovely light,
Were thou but mine, thy pearly lustre
'Mid Ing'borg's golden hair should cluster."
But Hilding said: "My foster-son,
Your reason is by love outrun;
The norns are partial in bestowing
The blood that in her veins is flowing.
To Odin high, where bright stars shine,
Ascendeth her ancestral line;
No hope may son of Thorstein nourish,
For like with like alone can flourish."
But Fridthjof smiled: "My race," he said,
"Goes down unto the valiant dead;
The forest-king I slew, and merit
Thereby, the honor kings inherit.
"The free-born man will never yield,
He owns the world's unconquered field;
For fate can bind what she has broken,
And hope is crowned with kingly token.
"All power is noble; Thor presides
In Thrudvang, where all strength abides;
There worth, and not descent, is leader,—
The sword is e'er a valiant pleader.
"I'd fight the world for my sweet bride,
Yea, though the thunder-god defied.
Be glad and brave, my lily, never
Shah mortal dare our lives to sever."