And her arms the third | of the sisters threw
Next round Völund’s | neck so white.
[5]. There did they sit | for seven winters,
In the eighth at last | came their longing again,
(And in the ninth | did need divide them).
The maidens yearned | for the murky wood,
The fair young maids, | their fate to follow.
[[257]]
[6]. Völund home | from his hunting came,
From a weary way, | the weather-wise bowman,