Then he gave unto Fafnir my brother the soul that feareth nought,
And the brow of the hardened iron, and the hand that may never fail,
And the greedy heart of a king, and the ear that hears no wail.
"But next unto Otter my brother he gave the snare and the net,
And the longing to wend through the wild-wood, and wade the highways
wet;
And the foot that never resteth, while aught be left alive
That hath cunning to match man's cunning or might with his might to
strive.
"And to me, the least and the youngest, what gift for the slaying of
ease?
Save the grief that remembers the past, and the fear that the future
sees;
And the hammer and fashioning-iron, and the living coal of fire;
And the craft that createth a semblance, and fails of the heart's
desire;
And the toil that each dawning quickens, and the task that is never
done;
And the heart that longeth ever, nor will look to the deed that is
won.
"Thus gave my father the gifts that might never be taken again;
Far worse were we now than the Gods, and but little better than men.
But yet of our ancient might one thing had we left us still:
We had craft to change our semblance, and could shift us at our will
Into bodies of the beast-kind, or fowl, or fishes cold;
For belike no fixed semblance we had in the days of old,
Till the Gods were waxen busy, and all things their form must take
That knew of good and evil, and longed to gather and make.
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