Thou shalt be mine and I'll prove ever kind:
Ever, wing'd hunter, I'll scatter
Food on thy platter.

Here on his hand
Work'd on my kerchiefs hem thou shalt stand,
Pinions of silver and glowing
Gold-talons showing.

Hawk-pinions tried
Freia {63} one time, and around about hied;
Sought North and South to discover
Oder her lover.

E'en shouldst thou lend
Me thy brave wings, yet I could not ascend;
Only Death brings me, poor minion,
The divine pinion.

Hunter so free!
Sit on my shoulder and look to the sea;
Spite of our looking and yearning,
He's not returning.

When I'm at rest,
And he comes safe, do thou mind my behest:
O with best greetings receive him,
Frithiof, who'll grieve him.