The fatal cold | shall not grip thy flesh,
And whole thy body shall be.
[[238]]
[13]. “Then eighth will I chant thee, | if ever by night
Thou shalt wander on murky ways:
Yet never the curse | of a Christian woman
From the dead shall do thee harm.
[a]14]. “Then ninth will I chant thee, | if needs thou must strive
With a warlike giant in words:
Thy heart good store | of wit shall have,