“Fare Forth,” said the Three Men, “and keep your promise.
By the bole of this broad tree We bide you here”
And there he makes fast his feet and gropes about,
and stands up in that stomach that stank as the devil.
There in grease and filth that flavoured of hell
He built his stall, that would no harm take.
Over many cliffs he climbs in countries strange,
For parted from his friends, as a stranger he rides.
From that spot my spirit there sprang in space.
My body on grave mound lay. In dreaming
My ghost is gone in His grace
On quest that moves in Mystery.
We all go to the bones
all of them shining white in this Dulur country.
The noise of our father Bunjil
rushing down singing in this heart of mine.