SKIRNER:
I turn not home to bower or hall
Till I have learnt mine errand all;
Where you will yield the night of joy
To brave Njord’s, the gallant boy.
GERD:
Bar-isle is hight, the seat of love;
Nine nights elapsed, in that known grove
Shall brave Njord’s, the gallant boy,
From Gerd take the kiss of joy.