Rind a son shall bear In the wintry halls, He shall slay Odin’s son When one night old. He a hand will not wash, Nor his hair comb, Ere he to the pile has borne Balder’s adversary. Odin’s repeated wooing of this maid is expressed in Hávamál, of the Elder Edda, as follows: The mind only knows What lies near the heart; That alone is conscious of our affections. No disease is worse To a sensible man Than not to be content with himself. That I experienced When in the reeds I sat Awaiting my delight. Body and soul to me Was that discreet maiden: Nevertheless I possess her not. Billing’s lass[45] On her couch I found, Sun-bright, sleeping. A prince’s joy To me seemed naught, If not with that form to live. Yet nearer night, she said, Must thou, Odin, come, If thou wilt talk the maiden over; All will be disastrous Unless we alone Are privy to such misdeed. I returned, Thinking to love At her wise desire; I thought I should obtain Her whole heart and love. When next I came, The bold warriors were All awake, With lights burning, And bearing torches: Thus was the way to pleasure closed. But at the approach of morn, When again I came, The household all was sleeping; The good damsel’s dog Alone I found Tied to the bed. Many a fair maiden, When rightly known, Toward men is fickle: That I experienced When that discreet maiden I Strove to win: Contumely of every kind That wily girl Heaped upon me; Nor of that damsel gained I aught.