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