LITMIR.BIZ

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were Hagen of Troneg, and Dankwart his brother withal

      The battle-eager, and Ortwein the warder of Metz’s wall;

      And with these stood Gere and Eckwart, lords of the marches twain,

      And Volker the Knight Alsatian, the name without a stain;

      And Rumold the feast-arrayer, a worship-worthy lord;

      Sindold and Hunold, which ever kept heedful watch and ward

      For the state of the palace royal, that all should be ordered well;

      And with these were there knightly vassals whose tale no bard may tell.

      Dankwart was their palace-marshal, and beside the feastful board

      Waited his nephew Ortwein, of Metz was he overlord;

      And Sindold bare them the wine-cup, a goodly baron he;

      And Hunold was chamberlain, perfect in utterest courtesy.

      But of all their palace-splendour, and their might renowned afar,

      And the majesty of their worship, and their knightly deeds of war,

      And the joy that the kingly heroes therein had all their days—

      No minstrel hath wholly told it, no harp sung all their praise.

      Now it fell, in the midst of their glory, that a dream unto Kriemhild appeared:

      A strong, fair, tameless falcon in a bower of dreams she reared.

      But before her eyes two eagles swooped upon him and slew—

      Never a bitterer sorrow the heart of the maiden knew!

      So she told to her mother the vision; but from Lady Uta’s eyes

      Was it hid, that she could not interpret the dream save in halting wise:

      “The falcon reared in thy dream-bower, a princely husband is this—

      Now God from evil defend him, else swift dark doom shall be his!”

      “What is this that thou talkest of husbands, heart’s dearest, mother, to me?

      In the net of love untangled will I for ever be.

      Unto my death in the beauty of maidenhood I will abide,

      That I taste not the manifold sorrows that from love of man betide.”

      But she answered: “Not wholly renounce it, for thy vow hath been spoken amiss:

      For if ever on earth thou knowest a heart full-brimmed with bliss,

      Of the love of a man shall this come; and a fair and happy bride

      Shalt thou be, if a noble baron by God’s grace stand by thy side.”

      “Let be, let be vain talking, heart’s dearest, mother mine.

      In many a wife’s repentance have I read the warning sign,

      How love hath sorrow for guerdon when the end of its journey is won:—

      I will none of love nor of sorrow, I abide in my bliss alone.”

      So Kriemhild in pride of her spirit was a rebel to Lord Love’s sway;

      And her heart-peace flowed as a river through many a sunlit day;

      And she looked upon earls and champions, but none might the heart of her move:

      Yet her hour drew near, and the breaking of the glory-dawn of love.

      For in flight even now was the Falcon, the fulfilment drew nigh and nigher

      Of the dream half read of her mother—but woe for the vengeance-hire

      That she paid to the eagles that slew him, her own blood-brethren they!

      Woe for the sons of women untold whom his death should slay!

II.

       Of the Fostering and the Knighting of Siegfried

       Table of Contents

      Now grew unto man in the Low Land the child of a line world-famed.

      For Siegmund the King begat him, his mother was Siegelind named,

      In a tower-engirdled stronghold renowned through the earth afar,

      Where the Rhine and the sea meet: Xanten men named that burg of war.

      Now telleth the tale of a hero, how fair and stately he grew,

      How the shield of his heart was honour, nor taint of shame he knew,

      How shone the star of his glory, how strong was that fearless lord:—

      Ho for the harvest of honour that earth’s field gave to his sword!

      And his far-sung name was Siegfried, the name of a noble Knight;

      And he proved in his strength great-hearted full many a champion’s might,

      And through many a strange land cleft he a path by his own right hand:—

      Ho for the fiery warriors he found in Burgundia-land!

      (C) Or ever this valiant champion to man was fully grown,

      By deeds of such marvellous prowess had the might of his hands been shown

      That the minstrel’s voice and the harpstrings rang ever with his praise:

      Not a tithe thereof is remembered in these the latter days.

      But the noontide of his glory, but the spring of his goodlihead—

      How marvelled the world at his story, what things were of Siegfried said,

      How bloomed as a bower his honour, how goodly he was to behold,

      How dreamed of his love fair women, how their eyes the heart’s dream told!

      As beseems that a hero be fostered was he nurtured with diligent heed;

      But his own heart still was a wellspring of faith and of knightly deed,

      That by him was the land of his father as with gold of a diadem crowned,

      For in all the deeds of kingfolk all-kingly was he found.

      And by this so great was he waxen that to halls of kings must he fare:

      Glad-faced did the earls look on him, and dame and damsel there

      Sore longed to behold him wending thitherward evermore,

      And their eyes unto his shone welcome, and he knew the love they bore.

      Ever that child of princes rode girt by a henchman-ring,

      And in lovely-woven raiment of his mother’s fashioning;

      And the wise and the lessoned in honour must teach him their lore, as one

      For whom there waited a kingdom and a nation’s heart to be won.

      So waxed he to strength of manhood, till sword and shield he swayed,

      And in goodliest harness of battle were his mighty limbs arrayed.

      Then his thoughts after fair dream-faces of maids flew questing wide—

      And O for the bliss and the honour of her that should be his bride!

      Then sent King Siegmund the bidding-word to his vassals all,

      And to all friends loyal-hearted, for a high-tide festival;

      And the tale thereof into kingdoms of other lords they bare

      With

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