Better no prayer | than too big an offering, By thy getting measure thy gift; Better is none | than too big a sacrifice,

Hávamál 138-164
138. Now are Hor's words | spoken in the hall, Kind for the kindred of men, Cursed for the kindred of giants: Hail to the speaker, | and to him who learns! Profit be his who has them! Hail to them who hearken!
139. I ween that I hung | on the windy tree, Hung there for nights full nine; With the spear I was wounded, | and offered I was To Othin, myself to myself, On the tree that none | may ever know What root beneath it runs.
140. None made me happy | with loaf or horn, And there below I looked; I took up the runes, | shrieking I took them, And forthwith back I fell.
141. Nine mighty songs | I got from the son Of Bolthorn, Bestla's father; And a drink I got | of the goodly mead Poured out from Othrörir.
142. Then began I to thrive, | and wisdom to get, I grew and well I was; Each word led me on | to another word, Each deed to another deed.
143. Runes shalt thou find, | and fateful signs, That the king of singers colored, And the mighty gods have made;
Full strong the signs, | full mighty the signs That the ruler of gods doth write.
144. Othin for the gods, | Dain for the elves, And Dvalin for the dwarfs, Alsvith for giants | and all mankind, And some myself I wrote.
145. Knowest how one shall write, | knowest how one shall rede? Knowest how one shall tint, | knowest how one makes trial? Knowest how one shall ask, | knowest how one shall offer? Knowest how one shall send, | knowest how one shall sacrifice?
146. Better no prayer | than too big an offering, By thy getting measure thy gift; Better is none | than too big a sacrifice,
So Thund of old wrote | ere man's race began, Where he rose on high | when home he came.
147. The songs I know | that king's wives know not, Nor men that are sons of men; The first is called help, | and help it can bring thee In sorrow and pain and sickness.
148. A second I know, | that men shall need Who leechcraft long to use;
149. A third I know, | if great is my need Of fetters to hold my foe; Blunt do I make | mine enemy's blade, Nor bites his sword or staff.
150. A fourth I know, | if men shall fasten Bonds on my bended legs; So great is the charm | that forth I may go, The fetters spring from my feet, Broken the bonds from my hands.
152. A fifth I know, | if I see from afar An arrow fly 'gainst the folk; It flies not so swift | that I stop it not, If ever my eyes behold it.
152. A sixth I know, | if harm one seeks With a sapling's roots to send me; The hero himself | who wreaks his hate Shall taste the ill ere I.
153. A seventh I know, | if I see in flames The hall o'er my comrades' heads; It burns not so wide | that I will not quench it, I know that song to sing.
154. An eighth I know, | that is to all Of greatest good to learn; When hatred grows | among heroes' sons, I soon can set it right.
155. A ninth I know, | if need there comes To shelter my ship on the flood; The wind I calm | upon the waves, And the sea I put to sleep.
156. A tenth I know, | what time I see House-riders flying on high; So can I work | that wildly they go, Showing their true shapes, Hence to their own homes.
157. An eleventh I know, | if needs I must lead To the fight my long-loved friends; I sing in the shields, | and in strength they go Whole to the field of fight, Whole from the field of fight, And whole they come thence home.
158. A twelfth I know, | if high on a tree I see a hanged man swing;
So do I write | and color the runes That forth he fares, And to me talks.
159. A thirteenth I know, | if a thane full young With water I sprinkle well; He shall not fall, | though he fares mid the host, Nor sink beneath the swords.
160. A fourteenth I know, | if fain I would name To men the mighty gods; All know I well | of the gods and elves, Few be the fools know this.
161. A fifteenth I know, | that before the doors Of Delling sang Thjothrörir the dwarf; Might he sang for the gods, | and glory for elves, And wisdom for Hroptatyr wise.
162. A sixteenth I know, | if I seek delight To win from a maiden wise; The mind I turn | of the white-armed maid, And thus change all her thoughts.
163. A seventeenth I know, | so that seldom shall go A maiden young from me;
164. Long these songs | thou shalt, Loddfafnir, Seek in vain to sing; Yet good it were | if thou mightest get them, Well, if thou wouldst them learn, Help, if thou hadst them.
