Sif, tall and fair with native grace, To none in beauty need give place Save her whom Odin called to light, To make the erst dull world more bright. Fair tho’ she be, to Freya ne’er Can stately Sif in form compare. Not her’s the clear eye’s speaking glance, Age-frozen blood might make to dance: Or heart which passion ne’er had felt Like snow ’neath mid-day sun to melt. * * * * * * * * * Sif seems some Amazon to be, Her look replete with dignity, Her eye beams no impassioned glance, But rests in cold indifference. Her round arms, form’d alike to prove The contests or of war or love; Her swan-like bosom’s faultless curve Would Bragi’s golden lyre deserve. Smaller though Freya’s hand, not snow Than Sifs, fresh fallen on mountain brow, More white, nor softer virgin down Of Eyder-fowl, nor breast of swan. Two pencill’d brows of darkest brown Meet on her front, and seem to frown: What gentler beauty would deface, To hers but adds another grace; Her pearly teeth, of dazzling white, With ruby lips form contrast bright; But her first charm, past all compare, Is her long, silken, amber hair. NIORD, FREYR, FREYA. Niord, a lord of the Vaner, obtained, as we have before related[93], a share in the government of the Aser. He could not, indeed, do otherwise after the junction of the two people. Mythologically, he is the lord of Vindheim, the region of the winds, and consequently the ally of Ægir, the god of the sea. His palace, Noatun, is represented as on the borders of the ocean. Thus, Ohlenschlager, who may be followed where poetical description merely is required:— Niord who with ocean’s god Full oft in league is found, Loves o’er the raging flood In swift career to bound. Skimming each billow’s back, Loud neighs his coal-black steed: On the calm wave no track He leaves—so great his speed.[94]