Corpus poeticum boreale: Eddic poetry

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Guðbrandur Vigfússon, Frederick York Powell
Clarendon Press, 1883 - Old Norse poetry
 

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Page 516 - Two men I honour, and no third. First, the toilworn Craftsman that with earth-made Implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her man's. Venerable to me is the hard Hand ; crooked, coarse ; wherein notwithstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the Sceptre of this Planet. Venerable too is the rugged face, all weathertanned, besoiled, with its rude intelligence ; for it is the face of a Man living manlike.
Page 552 - I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me : refuge failed me ; no man cared for my soul.
Page 507 - The maiden touch'd the clay-cauld corpse, A drap it never bled ; The ladye laid her hand on him, And soon the ground was red. Out they hae ta'en her, may Catherine, And put her mistress in : The flame tuik fast upon her cheik, Tuik fast upon her chin ; Tuik fast upon her faire bodye — She burn'd like hollin-green.* , • HolKn-grcat—Gteen holly.
Page 552 - He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily estranged from me.
Page 451 - Meine Ruh ist hin, Mein Herz ist schwer; Ich finde sie nimmer Und nimmermehr.
Page 506 - Is there ony room at your head, Saunders? Is there ony room at your feet? Or ony room at your side, Saunders, Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?
Page 516 - Oh, but the more venerable for thy rudeness, and even because we must pity as well as love thee! Hardlyentreated Brother! For us was thy back so bent, for us were thy straight limbs and fingers so deformed: thou wert our Conscript, on whom the lot fell, and fighting our battles wert so marred.
Page 476 - Wuotan !" — And then consider what mere Time will do in such cases ; how if a man was great while living, he becomes tenfold greater when dead. What an enormous camera-obscura magnifier is Tradition ! How a thing grows in the human Memory, in the human Imagination, when love, worship and all that lies in the human Heart, is there to encourage it.
Page cii - Wolospa, and is described in phrases taken from lost poems as ' the long-legged one ' [langi-fótr], ' the lord of the ooze' [aur-konungr]. Strange epithets, but easily explainable when one gets at the etymology of Hoene1 = hohni = Skt. sakunas = Gk. cucnos = the white bird, swan or stork, that stalks along in the mud, lord of the marish — and it is now easy to see that this bird is the Creator walking in Chaos, brooding over the primitive mish-mash or tohu-bohu, and finally hatching the egg of...
Page 554 - The earl told her that the odds in number between his foemen and his own men would not be less than seven to one. She answered, ' I would have brought thee up all thy life in my wool-basket, if I had known that thou wert bent upon living for ever; bat 'tis Fate that settles a man's days wherever he is. It is better to die with honour than to live with shame.

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