Came unto Gambara, Wisest of Valas-- 'Vala, why weepest thou Far in the wide-blue, High up in the Elfin-home, Heard I thy weeping.' 'Stop not thy weeping, Till one can fight seven, Sons have I, heroes tall, First in the sword-play; This day at the Wendels' hands Eagles must tear them; While their mothers, thrall-weary, Must grind for the Wendels' Wept the Alruna-wife; Kissed her fair Freya-- 'Far off in the morning land High in Valhalla, A window stands open, Its sill is the snow-peaks, Its posts are the water-spouts Storm rack its lintel, Gold cloud-flakes above it Are piled for the roofing.

Far up to the Elfin-home, High in the wide-blue.

Smiles out each morning thence Odin Allfather; From under the cloud-eaves, Smiles out on the heroes, Smiles out on chaste housewives all, Smiles on the brood-mares, Smiles on the smith's work: And theirs is the sword-luck, With them is the glory-- So Odin hath sworn it-- Who first in the morning Shall meet him and greet him.' Still the Alruna wept-- 'Who then shall greet him?
Women alone are here: Far on the moorlands Behind the war-lindens, In vain for the bill's doom Watch Winil heroes all, One against seven.' Sweetly the Queen laughed-- 'Hear thou my counsel now; Take to thee cunning, Beloved of Freya.

Take thou thy women-folk, Maidens and wives: Over your ankles Lace on the white war-hose; Over your bosoms Link up the hard mailnets; Over your lips Plait long tresses with cunning;-- So war-beasts full bearded King Odin shall deem you, When off the gray sea-beach At sunrise ye greet him.' Night's son was driving His golden-haired horses up.

Over the Eastern firths High flashed their manes.