Men say that the white-armed Gudrun, the lovely Giuki's child, Looked long on Sigurd's visage in the winter weather wild On the eve of the Kings' departure; and she bore him wine and spake: "Thou goest to the war, O Sigurd, for the Niblung brethren's sake; And so women send their kindred on many a doubtful tide, And dead full oft on the death-field shall the hope of their lives abide; Nor must they fear beforehand, nor weep when all is o'er; But thou, our guest and our stranger, thou goest to the war, And who knows but thine hand may carry the hope of all the earth; Now therefore if thou deemest that my prayer be aught of worth, Nor wilt scorn the child of a Niblung that prays for things to come, Pledge me for thy glad returning, and the sheaves of fame borne home!"
He laughed, for his heart was merry for the seed of battle sown, For the fruit of love's fulfilment, and the blossom of renown; And he said: "I look in the wine-cup and I see goodwill therein; Be merry, Maid of the Niblungs; for these are the prayers that win!"
He drank, and the soul within him to the love and the glory turned, And all unmoved was her visage, howso her heart-strings yearned.
But again when the bolt of battle on the sleeping kings had been hurled, And the gold-tipped cloud of the Niblungs had been sped on the winter world, And once more in that hall of the stories was dight triumphant feast, And in joy of soul past telling sat all men most and least, There stood the daughter of Giuki by the king-folk's happy board, And grave and stern was Gudrun as the wine of kings she poured: But Sigurd smiled upon her, and he said: "O maid, rejoice For thy pledge's fair redeeming, and the hope of thy kindly voice! Thou hast prayed for the guest and the stranger, and, lo, from the battle and wrack Is the hope of the Niblungs blossomed, and thy brethren's lives come back."
She turned and looked upon him, and the flush ran over her face, And died out as the summer lightning, that scarce endureth a space; But still was her visage troubled, as she said: "Hast thou called me kind Because I feared for earth's glory when point and edge are blind? But now is the night as the day, when thou bringest my brethren home, And back in the arms of thy glory the Niblung hope has come."