I take not, I, that wondrous ring,
Though it from Balder’s pile you bring:
Gold lack not I, in Gymer’s bower;
Enough for me my father’s dower.
SKIRNER:
Behold this bright and slender wand,
Unsheathed and glittering in my hand!
Refuse not, maiden! lest your head
Be severed by the trenchant blade.
GERD: