LITMIR.BIZ

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score, yea more peradventure, in costly raiment arrayed;

      And paced behind fair Kriemhild many a winsome maid.

      From a stately tiring-bower those daintiest feet forth paced:

      Then surged the great press forward of heroes eager-faced

      Which had stood there long-expectant, if haply their lot might be

      To look glad-eyed on the Fairest, on the Star of Burgundy.

      Now forth of the doors the Loveliest came, as the morning-red

      From lowering clouds forth breaketh;—lo, how his heart-ache fled,

      His, who in his soul had shrined her through all that weary tide!

      For he saw that glory of women stand there in her beauty’s pride.

      Flashed many a priceless gemstone from the folds of her attire,

      And the roses flushed through the lilies, a snare of hearts’ desire.

      Howsoe’er ’gainst the spell of her beauty one strove, he needs must own

      That nothing so passing lovely in the wide world yet had he known.

      As the full moon in her glory swims on before the stars,

      And the brightness of her splendour floats forth of the cloudy bars,

      So before all other women shone out that Queen of Love.

      Well might the hearts of the heroes be uplifted for joy thereof!

      Paced onward before the maidens the stately chamberlains.

      Now could they forbear no longer, those noble-hearted thanes,

      But to gaze on her winsome sweetness forward still did they press.

      Then was Siegfried’s heart joy-ravished, and anon in heaviness.

      In his inmost soul was he musing: “How dared I dream such bliss

      That I, I ever should woo thee?—an idle dream was this!

      Yet must I for aye be a stranger? Better that I lay dead!”

      And oft in his thoughts’ wild tumult he paled, and anon flushed red.

      There Siegelind’s son stood moveless, and so winsome did he seem

      As though by the hand of a master were the angel of his dream

      Limned on the missal-parchment: none looked on him, and forbore

      To own that so comely a hero had none seen theretofore.

      Then the knights that attended Kriemhild bade all to left and to right

      Avoid from the path, and obedient to the word was many a knight.

      What joy it was to behold them, that heart-uplifted throng,

      As the gentle-nurtured ladies all queenlike swept along!

      Then spake the Prince Burgundian, and Gernot uttered his rede:

      “The hero who did thee service ungrudging in thy need,

      Gunther, belovèd brother, thou guerdon him for the same

      Before all these: of my counsel shall no man dare think shame.

      Bid Siegfried unto my sister, that he meet her face to face,

      That the maiden may greet him: of the honour shall we win us enduring grace.

      If to him be accorded her greeting, who on knight smiled never before,

      We have gotten this goodly war-thane to our friend for evermore.”

      Hasted the kinsmen of Gunther unto where did Siegfried stand,

      And they bare that courteous bidding to the knight of Netherland:

      “This is the King’s good pleasure, that thou come where the seed-royal be,

      To the end that his sister may greet thee for especial honour to thee.”

      How thrilled the soul of Siegfried to hear that gracious word!

      Passed as a dream his heart-ache, his spirit with rapture was stirred

      That on Uta’s lovely daughter he should look with unhindered eyes:

      And she, she received Prince Siegfried in courtly-winsome wise.

      When she saw him stand before her, that hero-hearted lord,

      Her cheeks were aflame with the love-light, her sweet lips spake the word:

      “Welcome to thee, Lord Siegfried, to a good and noble knight!”

      Then the wings of his soul at her greeting soared to the heaven’s height

      Love-lowly he bent before her: she laid her hand in his;

      And each moved on by other in a yearning trance of bliss.

      From their eyes the soft love-lightning flashed those twain alway

      Strong hero and fair maiden—yet stolen glances were they.

      Ask ye, were those white fingers by him pressed lovingly

      For speech of the heart?—such knowledge is all too high for me;

      Yet—yet I may nowise believe it, that he spared to do this thing.

      Soon came sweet self-betrayal of the heart that had found its king.

      It was all in the summer season, in the very glory of May.

      Never his heart had tasted such bliss as on that glad day,

      Never such soul-uplifting, as in that hour he knew

      When walked that maiden beside him, whom the hero fain would woo.

      Then many a knight was thinking: “Ah me, that my bliss it were

      Even so to be pacing beside her, as he is pacing there!

      And O in mine arms to clasp her!—how fain thereof had I been!”

      Yet who might begrudge?—never hero was so worthy to win a queen.

      From what far land soever those guests had come, each thane

      Had eyes, in all that feast-tide, for nothing save these twain.

      Then suffered was the maiden to kiss that goodly knight:

      Never in all his life-days had he known such dear delight.

      But the King of the Danefolk murmured under his breath straightway:

      “Ah, many for this high greeting lie sorely hurt this day

      By the hand of Siegfried stricken—for witness stand I here:—

      God grant his face in Daneland may never more appear!”

      Then the heralds cried that all folk should avoid to left and right

      From the path of Kriemhild the lovely; and many a gallant knight

      And warrior gently-nurtured in her train to the minster hied:

      So for a space was parted the hero from her side.

      So passed she into the minster with her maiden-company;

      And the dim aisles shone with beauty so glorious to see,

      That many a prayer dropped earthward that should to heaven aspire,

      For of all those chosen champions was she the eyes’ desire.

      Now scarce could Siegfried tarry till the mass was brought to an end,

      And his heart still sang thanksgiving unto Fortune, unto the friend

      Which

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