[1]. “What bit through the byrnie? | how was broken my sleep?
Who made me free | of the fetters pale?”
He answered:
“Sigmund’s son, | with Sigurth’s sword,
That late with flesh | hath fed the ravens.”
Sigurth sat beside her and asked her name. She took a horn full of mead and gave him a memory-draught.
[2]. “Hail, day! | Hail, sons of day!
And night and her daughter now!
Look on us here | with loving eyes,
That waiting we victory win.