Ye northern nightingales, where caught ye
The wailing stolen from my breast?
With evening's red the fairies playing,
In clouds my Ing'borg's form disclose,
But Freyja, jealousy displaying.
Away the image quickly blows.

Though changing clouds lose her resemblance,
Like radiant hope herself appears,
As true as childhood's sweet remembrance,
She comes, my love's reward she bears.
Come, loved one, come, and let me press thee
Unto the heart that holds thee dear,
My soul's desire, through life, I'll bless thee,
Come to my arms, and rest thee here.

Frail as the lily's stem so slender,
Yet like spring roses fresh and fair,
As Freyja's troth-plight, warm and tender,
Thou as the will of gods art pure.
Kiss me, and let my burning passion
Kindle thy soul to perfect bliss,
Of earth and heaven I lose the vision,
Enraptured by thy melting kiss.

Fear not, for here can come no stranger,
Without stands Bjorn. his sword in hand,
His champions guarding ns from danger,
If need be, can the world withstand;
And I, if fighting for my treasure,