And there also stood the Mistress of Pohyola, gray and grim and toothless, but noble in mien and of queenly appearance. She lifted her arms, she raised her eyes towards heaven, and called to the North Wind to prosper the voyage for her departing guest:
“Come, thou North Wind, great and strong,
Guide this hero to his home;
Gently drive his boat along
O’er the dashing white sea-foam.
“Push him with your mighty hand;
Blow him o’er the blue-backed sea;
Carry him safe to Hero Land,
And let him ne’er come back to me.”
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