Luring us to quiet;
Thine I know are waiting,
Ingeborg, for me.

Faithful men are plying
Oars of good Ellide;
Gods the keel have made us,
Bear us yet awhile."

------
See the sea advances,
Seeking now a wreck,
Ere the eye can glance,
Clears the starboard deck.

Fridthjof's sinewy arm adorning,
Shone a massive golden ring,
Bright its rays of early morning,
'Twas the gift of Bele, king.
This in many pieces broken,--
Made by dwarfs with skillful art,--
Gives to all on board a token.
Every man receives a part.

"Gold is good to carry
When you go a-wooing,
Empty-handed no one
Comes to sea-blue Ran.

Cold is she to kisses,