the marvels of battle-prowess that were wrought by Siegfried’s hand!
What deeds soever the champions achieved in the battle-play,
Even Dankwart and Hagen, and other of Gunther’s war-array—
Their glory, their prowess, were even as an idle wind should sing,
Set by the deeds of Siegfried, the son of Siegmund the King.
O yea, in the storm of battle full many a hero they slew:
But whoso essayed could never tell all the marvels through
That were wrought by the arm of Siegfried as he rode the surges of fight—
Ah, many a lady for dear ones slain shall bewail his might!
Went down before his onset the beloved of many a bride;
His giant strokes on the helmets o’er the field rang far and wide,
And forth of the gaping gashes the blood flowed fast and free:—
O yea, in all achievement the glory of knighthood is he!
Sooth, many a deed of valour wrought Ortwein, Metz’s Lord;
Whosoever was touched in the war-storm by the lightning of his sword
Fell back from his face sore wounded—yea, for the more part slain:
And thy brother withal to the foemen dealt the deadliest bane
That ever in battle-tempest hath any champion wrought.
True witness were this of the chosen warriors there that fought,
That so mighty in war-achievement were our proud Burgundians found,
That shame shall touch them never: for aye are they glory-crowned.
For they smote, and they saw before them many a riderless selle:
O’er the echoing field their war-glaives rang many a foeman’s knell.
O yea, the knights of Rhineland rode through that stormy day
In such wise that their foes repent them that ever they dared the fray.
And the valiant brethren of Troneg withal dealt deadly bane
When the war-hosts clashed, when the nations wrestled with desperate strain:
So many were then hurled earthward by dauntless Hagen’s hand,
That thereof might a goodly story be told in Burgundia-land.
Sindold withal and Hunold, ’neath Gernot’s banner who warred,
These wrought such deeds of prowess, with Rumold the dauntless lord,
That Lüdiger, king of the Saxons, to his latest hour shall repent
The folly of that war-challenge to the Lords of Rhineland sent.
Yet of all the mightiest war-deeds that ever on earth have been,
From the least even unto the greatest that ever eye hath seen,
Never were such as Siegfried hath wrought with resistless hand.
And he bringeth royal captives hither to Gunther’s land;
Even these with his might overmastering the warrior-prince subdued.
Of a truth his self-sought evils hath Lüdegast bitterly rued,
And Lüdiger his brother, the lord of the Saxons, withal!
O noble Daughter of Princes, not yet have I told thee all;
For behold, these twain were captive taken by Siegfried’s hand.
Never so many war-thralls have come into this our land
As now his valour haleth hitherward unto the Rhine.”
—More welcome words had she hearkened never, ye well may divine—
“Five hundred barons unwounded, nay more, be hitherward led,
O Queen, and of men sore stricken in fight, yea, well-nigh dead,
Full fourscore blood-stained litters come softly through the land;
And of these were the more part smitten by dauntless Siegfried’s hand.
They whose pride overweening challenged the Lords of Rhine to the war
Now captives of King Gunther by sore constraint they are.
With joy to thy land that goodly prey do our warriors hale.”
Then flushed into rose the lily at the telling of that tale.
Yea, over her lovely visage for rapture the roses burned
That out of the imminent peril alive and whole had returned
Her knight, her winsome Siegfried, of the young, heart-conquering eyes—
Yea, she rejoiced for her kinsfolk withal in sisterly wise.
Then spake that Queen of Beauty: “Glad tidings to me hast thou brought.
I will give thee for thy guerdon bright raiment richly wrought;
And my treasurer shall count thee withal ten marks of gold.”
He is happy of whom such tidings unto noble dames be told!
They gave him for his guerdon the gold and the costly array.
Many a lovely maiden from her casement leaned that day,
And gazed o’er the city highway, and saw go riding by
Many a thane high-hearted of the land of Burgundy.
First rode the knights unwounded, then the train of the stricken came—
Well might these hearken the greeting of friends with nought of shame!
And the King rode forth glad-hearted to meet them, kinsman and guest:
From all his care in rejoicing his soul had gotten rest.
Then greeted he well his kinsfolk, and hailed each stranger knight,
As for kings of men so mighty is ever meet and right
With thanks and with lovingkindness to meet men faring back
From plucking the flower of glory
