The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs. William Morris

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The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs - William Morris

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And as she crossed the threshold day brightened at her back,

       Nor once did she turn her earthward from the reek and the whirling wrack,

      And then King Siggeir's roof-tree upheaved for its utmost fall,

       And its huge walls clashed together, and its mean and lowly things

       The fire of death confounded with the tokens of the kings.

       A sign for many people on the land of the Goths it lay,

       A lamp of the earth none needed, for the bright sun brought the day.

      How Sigmund cometh to the Land of the Volsungs again, and of the death of Sinfiotli his Son.

      Now Sigmund the king bestirs him, and Sinfiotli, Sigmund's son,

       And they gather a host together, and many a mighty one;

       Then they set the ships in the sea-flood and sail from the stranger's shore,

       And the beaks of the golden dragons see the Volsungs' land once more:

       And men's hearts are fulfilled of joyance; and they cry, The sun shines now

       With never a curse to hide it, and they shall reap that sow!

       Then for many a day sits Sigmund 'neath the boughs of the Branstock green,

       With his earls and lords about him as the Volsung wont hath been.

       And oft he thinketh on Signy and oft he nameth her name,

       And tells how she spent her joyance and her lifedays and her fame

       That the Volsung kin might blossom and bear the fruit of worth

       For the hope of unborn people and the harvest of the earth.

       And again he thinks of the word that he spake that other day,

       How he should abide there lonely when his kin was passed away,

       Their glory and sole avenger, their after-summer seed.

      And now for their fame's advancement, and the latter days to speed,

       He weddeth a wife of the King-folk; Borghild she had to name;

       And the woman was fair and lovely and bore him sons of fame;

       Men call them Hamond and Helgi, and when Helgi first saw light,

       There came the Norns to his cradle and gave him life full bright,

       And called him Sunlit Hill, Sharp Sword, and Land of Rings,

       And bade him be lovely and great, and a joy in the tale of kings.

       And he waxed up fair and mighty, and no worser than their word,

       And sweet are the tales of his life-days, and the wonders of his sword,

       And the Maid of the Shield that he wedded, and how he changed his life,

       And of marvels wrought in the gravemound where he rested from the strife.

      But the tale of Sinfiotli telleth, that wide in the world he went,

       And many a wall of ravens the edge of his warflame rent;

       And oft he drave the war-prey and wasted many a land:

       Amidst King Hunding's battle he strengthened Helgi's hand;

       And he went before the banners amidst the steel-grown wood,

       When the sons of Hunding gathered and Helgi's hope withstood:

       Nor less he mowed the war-swathe in Helgi's glorious day

       When the kings of the hosts at the Wolf-crag set the battle in array.

       Then at home by his father's high-seat he wore the winter through;

       And the marvel of all men he was for the deeds whereof they knew,

       And the deeds whereof none wotted, and the deeds to follow after.

      And yet but a little while he loved the song and the laughter,

       And the wine that was drunk in peace, and the swordless lying down,

       And the deedless day's uprising and the ungirt golden gown.

       And he thought of the word of his mother, that his day should not be long

       To weary his soul with labour or mingle wrong with wrong;

       And his heart was exceeding hungry o'er all men to prevail,

       And make his short day glorious and leave a goodly tale.

      So when green leaves were lengthening and the spring was come again

       He set his ships in the sea-flood and sailed across the main;

       And the brother of Queen Borghild was his fellow in the war,

       A king of hosts hight Gudrod; and each to each they swore,

       And plighted troth for the helping, and the parting of the prey.

      Now a long way over the sea-flood they went ashore on a day

       And fought with a mighty folk-king, and overcame at last:

       Then wide about his kingdom the net of steel they cast,

       And the prey was great and goodly that they drave unto the strand.

       But a greedy heart is Gudrod, and a king of griping hand,

       Though nought he blench from the battle; so he speaks on a morning fair,

       And saith:

       "Upon the foreshore the booty will we share

       If thou wilt help me, fellow, before we sail our ways."

      Sinfiotli laughed, and answered: "O'ershort methinks the days

       That two kings of war should chaffer like merchants of the men:

       I will come again in the even and look on thy dealings then,

       And take the share thou givest."

       Then he went his ways withal,

       And drank day-long in his warship as in his father's hall;

       And came again in the even: now hath Gudrod shared the spoil,

       And throughout that day of summer not light had been his toil:

       Forsooth his heap was the lesser; but Sinfiotli looked thereon,

       And saw that a goodly getting

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