"But Loki took his man-shape, and laughed aloud and cried: 'What fish of the ends of the earth is so strong and so feeble-eyed, That he draweth the pouch of my net on his road to the dwelling of Hell? What Elf that hath heard the gold growing, but hath heard not the light winds tell That the Gods with the world have been dealing and have fashioned men for the earth? Where is he that hath ridden the cloud-horse and measured the ocean's girth, But seen nought of the building of God-home nor the forging of the sword: Where then is the maker of nothing, the earless and eyeless lord? In the pouch of my net he lieth, with his head on the threshold of Hell!' "Then the Elf lamented, and said: 'Thou knowst of my name full well: Andvari begotten of Oinn, whom the Dwarf-kind called the Wise, By the worst of the Gods is taken, the forge and the father of lies.' "Said Loki: 'How of the Elf-kind, do they love their latter life, When their weal is all departed, and they lie alow in the strife?' "Then Andvari groaned and answered: 'I know what thou wouldst have, The wealth mine own hands gathered, the gold that no man gave.' "'Come forth,' said Loki, 'and give it, and dwell in peace henceforth-- Or die in the toils if thou listest, if thy life be nothing worth.' "Full sore the Elf lamented, but he came before the God And the twain went into the rock-house and on fine gold they trod, And the walls shone bright, and brighter than the sun of the upper air. How great was that treasure of treasures: and the Helm of Dread was there; The world but in dreams had seen it; and there was the hauberk of gold; None other is in the heavens, nor has earth of its fellow told. "Then Loki bade the Elf-king bring all to the upper day, And he dight himself with his Godhead to bear the treasure away: So there in the dim grey desert, before the God of Guile, Great heaps of the hid-world's treasure the weary Elf must pile, And Loki looked on laughing: but, when it all was done, And the Elf was hurrying homeward, his finger gleamed in the sun: Then Loki cried: 'Thou art guileful: thou hast not learned the tale Of the wisdom that Gods have gotten and their might of all avail. Hither to me! that I learn thee of a many things to come; Or despite of all wilt thou journey to the dead man's deedless home. Come hither again to thy master, and give the ring to me; For meseems it is Loki's portion, and the Bale of Men shall it be.'