Fornax on this Dſsablót
rally ‘round these stars of mine
bless the wife that bakes the bread
guide the hand that feeds the Goddess
let Frige’s maids draw back the veil
and fare the Queen back down to Earth
splendid on her sparkling throne
from Heaven called with us to sup
we give her gifts of bread and milk
that she our fondest wishes hail
and tend the ghosts of mothers’ dead
so that the Norns can weave their thread
and yield new life up from the dead
a paltry gift we muster her
besides the banquet she deserves
we hope to hear the mothers’ song
as flesh gone to Earth does sing
the Idises on the wind transformed
whispering from the Well of Urd
come now Frige, and eat your fill
let us bless and honour you
The Serpent's Loft 