All like two bears they wrestle On hills of snow, and draw And strain, each like an eagle On the angry sea at war.
Dints hundredfold receive.
To-morrow haply you. But Atle yet lay still. Whereat, his heart relenting, He quick held in his brand, And checked his wrath, presenting The fallen foe his hand. This fray ye sport so proudly Here causeth no delight. He ne er had been before.