That Snæbiorn's lips of love had pressed.
Morn and noon, and nones passed o'er,
And the sun is far from the bower door.
To-morrow morn shall the sun come back,
_So many times over comes summer again_,
But Hallgerd's feet the floor shall lack.
_What healing in summer if winter be vain?_

Now Hallbiorn's house-carles ride full fast,
_So many times over comes summer again_,
Till many a mile of way is past.
_What healing in summer if winter be vain?_
But when they came over Oxridges,
'Twas, "Where shall we give our horses ease?"
When Shieldbroad-side was well in sight,
'Twas, "Where shall we lay our heads to-night?"
Hallbiorn turned and raised his head;
"Under the stones of the waste," he said.
Quoth one, "The clatter of hoofs anigh."
Quoth the other, "Spears against the sky!"
"Hither ride men from the Wells apace;
Spur we fast to a kindlier place."
Down from his horse leapt Hallbiorn straight:
"Why should the supper of Odin wait?
Weary and chased I will not come
To the table of my fathers' home."
With that came Snæbiorn, who but he,
And twelve in all was his company.
Snæbiorn's folk were on their feet;
He spake no word as they did meet.