11.

’Full surely I know,

In my son was waxing

The stuff and the strength

Of a stout-limbed wight:

Had he reached but ripeness

To raise his shield,

And Odin laid hand

On his liegeman true.

12.

’Willing he followed

His father’s word,

Though all opposing

Should thwart my rede:

He in mine household

Mine honour upheld,

Of my power and rule

The prop and the stay.

13.

’Oft to my mind

My loss doth come,

How I brotherless bide

Bereaved and lone.

Thereon I bethink me,

When thickens the fight

Thereon with much searching

My soul doth muse: