“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. 
    Hither to me! that I learn thee of a many things to come;
    Or despite of all wilt thou journey to the dead man’s deedless home. 
    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.’

“Then the Elf drew off the gold-ring and stood with empty hand
E’en where the flood fell over ’twixt the water and the land,
And he gazed on the great Guile-master, and huge and grim he grew;
And his anguish swelled within him, and the word of the Norns he knew;
How that gold was the seed of gold to the wise and the shapers of
things,
The hoarders of hidden treasure, and the unseen glory of rings;
But the seed of woe to the world and the foolish wasters of men,
And grief to the generations that die and spring again: 
Then he cried: 
’There farest thou Loki, and might I load thee worse
Than with what thine ill heart beareth, then shouldst thou bear my
curse: 
But for men a curse thou bearest:  entangled in my gold,
Amid my woe abideth another woe untold. 
Two brethren and a father, eight kings my grief shall slay;
And the hearts of queens shall be broken, and their eyes shall loathe
the day. 
Lo, how the wilderness blossoms!  Lo, how the lonely lands
Are waving with the harvest that fell from my gathering hands!’

    “But Loki laughed in silence, and swift in Godhead went,
    To the golden hall of Reidmar and the house of our content. 
    But when that world of treasure was laid within our hall
    ’Twas as if the sun were minded to live ’twixt wall and wall,
    And all we stood by and panted.  Then Odin spake and said: 

    “’O Kings, O folk of the Dwarf-kind, lo, the ransom duly paid! 
    Will ye have this sun of the ocean, and reap the fruitful field,
    And garner up the harvest that earth therefrom shall yield?’