20.

’Still do I mind me,

When the Friend of men

High uplifted

To the home of gods

That sapling stout

Of his father’s stem,

Of my true wife born

A branch so fair.

21.

’Once bare I goodwill

To the great spear-lord,

Him trusty and true

I trowed for friend:

Ere the giver of conquest,

The car-borne god,

Broke faith and friendship

False in my need.

22.

’Now victim and worship

To Vilir’s brother,

The god once honoured,

I give no more.

Yet the friend of Mimir

On me hath bestowed

Some boot for bale,

If all boons I tell.