Page:The Prose Edda (1916 translation by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur).pdf/196

'Wealth grind we for Fródi,

We grind it in plenty,

Fullness of fee

At the mill of fortune:

Let him sit on riches

And sleep on down;

Let him wake in weal:

Then well 't is ground.

Here may no one

Harm another,

Contrive evil,

Nor cast wiles for slaying,

Nor slaughter any

With sword well sharpened,

Though his brother's slayer

In bonds he find.'

But he spake no word

Save only this:

'Sleep ye no longer

Than the hall-cuckoo's silence,

Nor longer than so,

While one song is sung.'

'Thou wast not, Fródi,

Full in wisdom,

Thou friend of men,

When thou boughtest the maidens:

Didst choose for strength

And outward seeming;

But of their kindred

Didst not inquire.