“There Loki fareth, and seeth in a land of nothing good,
  Far off o’er the empty desert, the reek of the falling flood
  Go up to the floor of heaven, and thither turn his feet
  As he weaveth the unseen meshes and the snare of strong deceit;
  So he cometh his ways to the water, where the glittering foam-bow glows,
  And the huge flood leaps the rock-wall and a green arch over it throws. 
  There under the roof of water he treads the quivering floor,
  And the hush of the desert is felt amid the water’s roar,
  And the bleak sun lighteth the wave-vault, and tells of the fruitless plain,
  And the showers that nourish nothing, and the summer come in vain.

  “There did the great Guile-master his toils and his tangles set,
  And as wide as was the water, so wide was woven the net;
  And as dim as the Elf’s remembrance did the meshes of it show;
  And he had no thought of sorrow, nor spared to come and go
  On his errands of griping and getting till he felt himself tangled and
       caught: 
  Then back to his blinded soul was his ancient wisdom brought,
  And he saw his fall and his ruin, as a man by the lightning’s flame
  Sees the garth all flooded by foemen; and again he remembered his name;
  And e’en as a book well written the tale of the Gods he knew,
  And the tale of the making of men, and much of the deeds they should do.

* * * * *

  “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 listeth, 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 there;
  The world but in dreams had seen it; and there was the hauberk of gold;
  None other is in the heavens, nor has earth of its fellow told.

  “Then Loki bade the Elf-king bring all to the upper day,
  And he dight himself with his Godhead to bear the treasure away: 
  So there in the dim grey desert before the God of Guile,
  Great heaps of the hid-world’s treasure the weary Elf must pile,
  And Loki looked on laughing:  but, when it all was done,
  And the Elf was hurrying homeward, his finger gleamed in the sun: 
  Then Loki cried:  ’Thou art guileful:  thou hast not learned the tale
  Of the wisdom that Gods hath gotten and their might of all avail.

* * * * *

  “’Come hither again to thy master, and give the ring to me;
  For meseems it is Loki’s portion, and the Bale of Men shall it be.’