Whose form I on my bosom bear,
To Valhal now would go with pleasure,
Could'st then be my valkyrie there.

And why fear Balder's fierce resentment,
The pious god to whom we pray?
He looks on us with calm contentment,
For, loving, we his law obey.
The god whose brow with sunshine beameth,
With whom all truth abideth sure,
His love unto his Nanna seemeth
Like mine to thee, so warm, so pure.

There stands his image, not indignant,
But mild and soft as sunset ray,
Upon this shrine of god benignant,
My heart a sacrifice I lay.
Together let us kneel before him,
No better offering can be found
Than two fond hearts which both adore him,
With love like his together bound.

Scorn not my love, my blossom cherished,
Which more to heaven than earth belongs,
In heaven itself that love was nourished,
And for that glorious home it longs.
Oh! that my weary soul releasing,
The gods would take me up above;
Triumphantly, with joy unceasing,
I'd go, embraced by my dear love.