'What kind of a dream is it,' said \xd3\xf0inn,
in which just before daybreak,
I thought I cleared Valhalla,
for coming of slain men?
I waked the E‘inherjar,
bade valkyries rise up,
to strew the bench,
and scour the beakers,
wine to carry,
as for a king's coming,
here to me I expect
heroes' coming from the world,
certain great ones,
so glad is my heart.