6.

’Yet I to this ruler

Of fishful seas

My bolster-mate’s ransom

Made bold to bear,

Of Odin’s goblet

O’erflowing dew

Each listening ear-mouth

Eagerly drank.

7.

’Not beauteous in seeming

My bardic fee

To ranks of heroes

In royal hall:

When I my hood-knoll

Wolf-gray of hue

For mead of Odin

From monarch gat.

8.

’Thankful I took it,

And therewithal

The pit-holes black

Of my beetling brows;

Yea and that mouth

That for me bare

The poem of praise

To princely knees.