Oh Loki grinned wide and his dark eyes gleamed
With joy at the deed he had done;
When Sif looked into the crystal stream,
Her glorious locks were all gone.

Now never again her soft amber hair
Would she braid with her hands of snow;
From the hateful sight she turned in despair,
And her eyes overflowed with woe.

From a cavern’s mouth like a crafty fox
Loki mocked at the scene she made.
Then a sudden thundering shook the rocks,
And he trembled there in the glade.

He knew that sound and it filled him with dread;
He knew ‘twas the coming of Thor;
So he changed himself to a salmon red
And terrified leapt from the shore.

But Thor, he changed too, to a huge seagull,
And the salmon he seized from the reeds;
“Thou treacherous varlet, I know thee well,
And dear thou shalt pay for thy deeds!

“Thy knavish bones I will pound to a meal,
As a millstone crushes the grain.”
When Loki could see he’d been thus revealed,
He straight took his own form again.

“And what if you scatter my limbs in the air?
Will it make thy grief be recalled?
Will it gain back for Sif a single hair?
You’ll still have a spouse who is bald.

“But pardon me now for my heedless joke --
For malice I sure meant you none --
And I’ll swear to thee here by ash and oak;
Yea, I’ll swear by the standing stone;

“That anon for Sif new tresses I’ll gain
Made of gold that never shall pall;
And gifts for thee and Odin obtain
For to grace Valhalla’s high hall.”

He promised so well, in such earnest tones,
That at length Thor said he could go.
Then he sank in the earth, beneath dark stones
To the dwarf-halls buried below.

Now that was a marvelous sight to see;
The dwarfs with their aprons on,
A’hamm’ring and smelting so busily
Pure gold from the rough brown stone.

Red rubies they made from the rosebud’s dye;
And sapphires from the morning dew;
Bright diamonds they caught from the midnight sky,
And emeralds from sea-foam drew.

When Loki to th’dwarfs his errand made known,
For the task in a trice they were ready;
Quoth the sons of Ivald, “Now be it shown:
Dwarfs in their friendships are steady.

“Since we trace our roots from the selfsame stock
What you ask shall be furnished with speed.
Let it ne’er be said that Sons of the Rock
Turn backs on a kinsman in need.”

Brok plied bellows and Sindre the hammer.
Loki smiled as the flames soared high
And the vaulted cave rang with the clamor;
But resentment lurked in his eye.

He thought on all that he’d sworn to provide;
Had sworn (under threat!) to obtain;
Mischief and malice would not be denied --
He would render the dwarfs’ labor vain.

Sour and swollen with venom and spite,
He changed himself to a biting fly.
Brok’s wrist he assailed, but that sturdy wright
Ne’er once ceased the bellows to ply.

They caught the sun as it slid through the trees,
And made hair from the bright cascade;
Then a ring for Odin wove from the breeze:
A gold snake, bejeweled, and well-laid.

Then on anvil they laid a steel-bar cold,
And no fuel did the forge require;
For the sound of their hammers like thunder rolled,
And their song was what fed the fire.

When Loki marked how the furnace did roar --
With what care the dwarfs kept their beat --
‘This then would be the new hammer for Thor!’
He’d recourse once more to deceit.

Quick as thought to a hornet he shifted
And whilst in cadence fell blow on blow,
In Brok’s broad brow his barb he twisted
‘Til the blood in a stream did flow.

At length the smith could no longer support
The smart and he brushed at his eyes.
From this lapse the haft fell an inch too short
And Loki gave up his disguise.

* * * * *

To Asgard he hied, where the Gods reside,
And the ringlets he gave to Thor.
Who owned that the hair was sure more fair
Than any he’d seen before.

Then on to the king, who was pleased with his ring
While Loki bowed low and humble;
And the hammer to Thor, who felt as before
But now could do naught but grumble.

His ring on his hand Odin gave a command
That all in the hall should attend:
“Change oft can cause pain, and scars may remain,
And mischief make foe of a friend;