Hervarth, Hjörvarth, Angantyr,
And Hrani, under the tree-roots here,
I bid you now appear;—
Clad in harness and coat of mail,
With shield and broadsword of biting steel,
Helmet and reddened spear!
The sons of Arngrim are changed indeed
To heaps of dust, and Eyfura's seed
Has crumbled into mould.—
In Munarvagar will no one speak