THE POESY OF SKALDS
103
So sang Bragi:
- 'Tis seen, on my shield's surface,
- How the Son of the Father of Peoples
- Craved to try his strength full swiftly
- 'Gainst the rain-beat Snake earth-circling.
Thus sang Eínarr:
- Since less with Bestla's Offspring
- Prevail most lordly princes
- Than thou, my task is singing
- Thy praise in songs of battle.
Thus sang Thorvaldr Blending-Skald:
- Now have I much
- In the middle grasped
- Of the son of Borr,
- Of Búri's heir.
III. "Now you shall hear how the skalds have termed the art of poesy in these metaphorical phrases which have been recorded before: for example, by calling it Kvasir's Gore and Ship of the Dwarves, Dwarves' Mead, Mead of the Æsir, Giants' Father-Ransom, Liquor of Ódrerir and of Bodn and of Són, and Fullness of these, Liquor of Hnitbjörg, Booty and Find and Gift of Odin, even as has been sung in these verses which Einarr Tinkling-Scale wrought:
- I pray the high-souled Warder
- Of earth to hear the Ocean
- Of the Cliff of Dwarves, my verses:
- Hear, Earl, the Gore of Kvasir.
