Above in the clouds
Dwell the Immortals;
Walhall is their home.
They are light-spirits;
Light-Alberich,
Wotan, rules as their lord.
From the world-ash-tree's
Holiest bough once
Wotan made him a shaft.
Though the stem rot,
The spear shall endure,
And with that spear-point
Wotan rules the world.
Trustworthy runes
Of holy treaties
Deep in the shaft he cut.
Who wields the spear
Carried by Wotan
The haft of the world
Holds in his hand.
Before him kneels
The Nibelung host;
The giants, tamed,
Bow to his will.
All must obey, and for ever,
The spear's eternal lord.
[He strikes the ground with the spear as if by accident, and a low growl of thunder is heard, by which Mime is violently alarmed.
Confess now, cunning dwarf,
Are not my answers right,
And is not my head redeemed?
MIME
[After attentively watching the Wanderer with the spear, becomes very frightened, seeks in a confused manner for his tools, and looks timidly aside.
Both thou hast won,
Wager and head;
Thy way now, Wanderer, go.
WANDERER
Knowledge useful to thee
Thou wert to ask for;
Forfeit my head if I failed.
Forfeit be thine,
Knowest thou not
The thing it would serve thee to know.
Greeting thou
Gavest me not;
My head into thy hand
I gave
That I might rest by thy hearth.
By wager fair
Forfeit thy head,
Canst thou not answer
Three things when asked;
So sharpen well, Mime, thy wits!