32 I saw for Baldr, for the bloody god,
Odin’s child, his fate in store;
there stood grown—higher than the plain,
slender and very fair—the mistletoe.

33 From that stem which seemed so slender
there came a dangerous grief-dart: Hod started to shoot;
Baldr’s brother was born quickly;
Odin’s son started killing at one night old.

34 He never washed his hands nor combed his hair,
until he brought Baldr’s adversary to the funeral pyre;
and in Fen-halls Frigg wept
for Valhall’s woe—do you want to know more: and what?
 
 
- Poetic Edda, Völuspá