The Prose Edda 2.60

"What are the names of the Sea? It is called Ocean, Main, Wintry, Lee, Deep, Way, Weir, Salt, Lake, Furtherer. As Arnórr sang, and as we have written above:

Let men hear how the Earls' King, Hardy of mind, the Sea sought; The overwhelming Ruler Failed not to resist the Main.

Here it is named Sea, and Main also.

"Ocean, as Hornklofi sang:

When the man-scathing Meeter Of the Mansion of the Rock-Reefs Thrust the Forecastle-Adder And the skiff out on the Ocean.

In the following verse it is called Lake as well: thus sang Einarr:

The Lake doth bathe the vessel, Where the sea 'gainst each side beateth, And the bright wind-vanes rattle; The surf washes the Flood-Steeds.

Here it is called Flood also. Thus sang Refr, as was said before:

Wintry One's wet-cold Spae-Wife Wiles the Bear of Twisted Cables Oft into Ægir's wide jaws, Where the angry billow breaketh.

Deep, as Hallvardr sang:

The Sword-Shaker bids be pointed The prow of the hardy ship-steed Westward in the girdle Of all lands, the Watery Deep.

Way, as here:

On our course from land we glided; On the Way to the coast of Finland: I see from the Ship's Road, eastward, The fells with radiance gleaming.

Weir, as Egill sang:

I sailed o'er the Weir To the West: I bear Odin's Heart-Sea. So it stands with me.

Ocean, as Einarr sang:

Many a day the cold Ocean Washes the swarthy deck-planks 'Neath the gracious Prince; and Snow-Storm Furrows Mona's Girdle.

Salt, as Arnórr sang:

The hardy King the Salt plowed From the east with hull ice-laden: Brown tempests tossed the Lessener Of Surf-Gold toward Sigtún.

Furtherer, as Bölverkr sang:

Thou didst summon from fair Norway A levy the next season, With Din-Surf's ships the Furtherer Didst shear; o'er decks the sea poured.

Here the sea is called Din-Surf also.

Wide One, as Refr sang:

To its breast the Stay's steed taketh The Home of Planks, beak-furrowed, And tosses the Wide One over The hard side; the wood suffers.

Dusky One, as Njáll of the Burning sang:

We sixteen pumped, my Lady, In four oar-rooms, but the surge waxed: The Dusky One beat over The hull of the driven sea-ship.

These are other names for the Sea, such as it is proper to use in periphrasing ships or gold.

"Rán, it is said, was Ægir's wife, even as is written here:

To the sky shot up the Deep's Gledes, With fearful might the sea surged: Methinks our stems the clouds cut,— Rán's Road to the moon soared upward.

The daughters of Ægir and Rán are nine, and their names are recorded before: Himinglæva, Dúfa, Blódughadda, Hefring, Udr, Hrönn, Bylgja, Dröfn, Kólga. Einarr Skúlason recorded the names of six of them in this stanza, beginning:

Himinglæva sternly stirreth, And fiercely, the sea's wailing.

Welling Wave, as Valgardr sang:

Foam rested in the Sea's bed: Swollen with wind, the deep played, And the Welling Waves were washing The awful heads of the war-ships.

Billow, as Ottarr the Swarthy sang:

Ye shear with shaven rudder Billows moisty-deep; the broad sheet, Which girls spun, on the mast-head With the Roller's Reindeer sported.

Foam-Fleck, as Ormr sang:

The hawk-like, heedful Lady Has every virtue: Lofn Of the Foam-Fleck's flame-gold, faithful As a friend, all faults renounceth.

Wave-Borne, as Thorleikr the Fair sang:

The sea walls, and the Wave-Borne Bears bright froth o'er the red wood, Where gapes the Roller's Brown Ox, With mouth gold-ornamented.

Shoal, as Einarr sang:

Nor met the Forward-Minded, Where the fierce sea on our friends falls; I think the Shoal becalmed not The Ship, Wood of the Waters.

Fullness, as Refr sang:

Downward the Fells of Fullness Fall on the Bear of Tackle: Now forward Winterling, stirreth, The ship, on Glammi's sea-path.

Comber, as here:

The Comber fell headlong o'er me; The Main called me home unto it: I accepted not the Sea's bidding.

Breaker, as Óttarr sang:

In burst the ship-sides thin; Rushed the Breaker downward; flushed Stood the wind, bane of the wood; Men endured wild tempest then.

Wave, as Bragi sang:

The Giver of the Wave's Coals, Who cut Thor's slender tackle, The Line of the Land of Sea-Mews, Loved not to fight the wroth sea.

Sound, as Einarr sang:

I sheared the Sound From Hrund south-bound; My hand was gold-wound When the Giver I found.

Fjord, as Einarr sang:

Next I see a serpent Carved well on the splendid ale-horn: Let the Fjord-Fire's Dispenser Learn how for that I pay him.

Wetness, as Markús sang:

I'll not lampoon the Chatterer, Lord of the fearful sword-blade, Who squanders the Sun of Wetness: Ill is he who spoileth verses.