All grief, sharp scorn, sore longing, stark death in her voice he knew, But gone forth is the doom of the Norns, and what shall he answer thereto, While the death that amendeth lingers? and they twain shall dwell for awhile In the Niblung house together by the hearth that forged the guile; Yet amid the good and the guileless, and the love that thought no wrong, Shall they fashion the deeds to remember, and the fame that endureth for long: And oft shall he look on Brynhild, and oft her words shall he hear, And no hope and no beseeching in his inmost heart shall stir. So he spake as a King of the people in whom all fear is dead, And his anguish no man noted, as the greeting-words he said:
"Hail, fairest of all things fashioned! hail, thou desire of eyes! Hail, chooser of the mightiest, and teacher of the wise! Hail, wife of my brother Gunnar! in might may thy days endure, And in peace without a trouble that the world's weal may be sure!"
She heard and turned unto Gunnar as a queen that seeketh her place, But to Gudrun she gave no greeting, nor beheld the Niblung's face. Then up stood the wife of Sigurd and strove with the greeting-word, But the cold fear rose in her heart, and the hate within her stirred, And the greeting died on her lips, and she gazed for a moment or twain On the lovely face of Brynhild, and so sat in the high-seat again, And turned to her lord beside her with many a word of love.
But the song sprang up in the hall, and the eagles cried from above, And forth to the freshness of May went the joyance of the feast: And Sigurd sat with the Niblungs, and gave ear to most and to least, And showed no sign to the people of the grief that on him lay; Nor seemeth he worser to any than he was on the yesterday.
So there are all these abiding in the Burg of the ancient folk Mid the troth-plight sworn and broken, and the oaths of the earthly yoke. Then Guttorm comes from his sea-fare, and is waxen fierce and strong, A man in the wars delighting, blind-eyed through right and wrong: Still Sigurd rides with the Brethren, as oft in the other days, And never a whit abateth the sound of the people's praise; They drink in the hall together, they doom in the people's strife, And do every deed of the King-folk, that the world may rejoice in their life.