LITMIR.BIZ

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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 had Borghild's brother won.

       Clean-limbed and stark were the horses, and the neat were fat and sleek,

       And the men-thralls young and stalwart, and the women young and meek;

       Fair-gilt was the harness of battle, and the raiment fresh and bright,

       And the household stuff new-fashioned for lords' and earls' delight.

       On his own then looked Sinfiotli, and great it was forsooth,

       But half-foundered were the horses, and a sight for all men's ruth

       Were the thin-ribbed hungry cow-kind; and the thralls both carle and quean

       Were the wilful, the weak, and the witless, and the old and the ill-beseen;

       Spoilt was the harness and house-gear, and the raiment rags of cloth.

      Now Sinfiotli's men beheld it and grew exceeding wroth,

       But Sinfiotli laughed and answered: "The day's work hath been meet:

       Thou hast done well, war-brother, to sift the chaff from the wheat

       Nought have kings' sons to meddle with the refuse of the earth,

       Nor shall warriors burden their long-ships with things of nothing worth."

      Then he cried across the sea-strand in a voice exceeding great:

       "Depart, ye thralls of the battle; ye have nought to do to wait!

       Old, young, and good, and evil, depart and share the spoil,

       That burden of the battle, that spring and seed of toil.

       —But thou king of the greedy heart, thou king of the thievish grip,

       What now wilt thou bear to the sea-strand and set within my ship

       To buy thy life from the slaying? Unmeet for kings to hear

       Of a king the breaker of troth, of a king the stealer of gear."

      Then mad-wroth waxed King Gudrod, and he cried: "Stand up, my men!

       And slay this wood-abider lest he slay his brothers again!"

      But no sword leapt from its sheath, and his men shrank back in dread;

       Then Sinfiotli's brow grew smoother, and at last he spake and said:

       "Indeed thou art very brother of my father Sigmund's wife:

       Wilt thou do so much for thine honour, wilt thou do so much for thy life,

       As to bide my sword on the island in the pale of the hazel wands?

       For I know thee no battle-blencher, but a valiant man of thine hands."

      Now nought King Gudrod gainsayeth, and men dight the hazelled field,

       And there on the morrow morning they clash the sword and shield,

       And the fallow blades are leaping: short is the tale to tell,

       For with the third stroke stricken to field King Gudrod fell.

       So there in the holm they lay him; and plenteous store of gold

       Sinfiotli lays beside him amid that hall of mould;

       "For he gripped," saith the son of Sigmund, "and gathered for such a day."

      Then Sinfiotli and his fellows o'er the sea-flood sail away,

       And come to the land of the Volsungs: but Borghild heareth the tale,

       And into the hall she cometh with eager face and pale

       As the kings were feasting together, and glad was Sigmund grown

       Of the words of Sinfiotli's battle, and the tale of his great renown:

       And there sat the sons of Borghild, and they hearkened and were glad

       Of their brother born in the wild-wood, and the crown of fame he had.

      So she stood before King Sigmund, and spread her hands abroad:

       "I charge thee now, King Sigmund, as thou art the

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