Without whip or spur round the earth you shall ride;
He’ll ne’er weary by day nor by night;
He shall carry you safe o’er the raging tide,
And his golden hair furnish you light.
Loke promised as well with his glozing tongue
That the asas at length let him go,
And he sank in the earth, the dark rocks among,
Near the cold-fountain, far below.
He crept on his belly, as supple as eel,
The cracks in the hard granite through,