JIIIKIIIY 
 JBRARY 
 PNIVMSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
Lays 
 of the 
 Dragon 
 Slayer 
 
oftbe 
 
 dragon 
 
 Slater 
 
 MAXWELL 
 
 GRAY, 
 
 LONDON 
 
 BLISS, SANDS AND FOSTER 
 1894 
 
STACK 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THOUGH more than ten years half 
 ten years again have passed since 
 these Lays were written, they seem to the 
 writer now, as then, in spite of defects 
 and crudities, touched with the subtle 
 magic that distinguishes poetry, however 
 faulty, from verse, however perfect 
 
 It seemed a sin, that increased with 
 years, to leave them to yellow unseen in 
 their dark drawer; but not until now 
 was leisure found to bring them to light. 
 After all, to publish poetry is not an in- 
 dictable offence, nor does the writer echo 
 the pious aspiration of Walt Whitman 
 "Let him who is without my poems be assassinated!" 
 
 122 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The last of the seven lays, "The 
 Niblung Woe," still remains in that rare 
 library in the castle Hawthorne built out 
 of sunset clouds, and pillared with solid 
 gold of morning sunbeams, alongside of 
 the unwritten cantos of the Fairy Queen, 
 the untold Canterbury Tales, the end of 
 Christabel) and the remainder of Keats' 
 Hyperion. Thence it may one day 
 descend to shelves of terrestrial growth, 
 should this volume meet with success. 
 
 Carisbrooke, I. IV., 1894. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM . . . . 7 
 
 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY . . . -33 
 
 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD . . .81 
 
 THE FATAL GIFTS . . , J o7 
 
 THE STRIFE OF THE SISTER QUEENS . .127 
 
 THE LINDEN LEAF . . . 161 
 
NOTE 
 
 THE Nibehmgen Lied is known to the writer only by 
 Carlyle's unpleasant and patronizing essay, and the 
 synopsis in Vilmar's Deutsche Literaturgeschichte. The 
 Edda was first seen after some of these Lays were 
 completed. 
 
 The writer has not seen either Mr. William Morris's 
 treatment of the Niblung myths, or Wagner's music- 
 dramas on the same. 
 
 Two of the Preludes those marked with an asterisk 
 appeared in " Westminster Chimes and Other Poems '* 
 (Kegan Paul, Trench & Co.), 1889. 
 
LAY THE FIRST 
 
 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 ZEbe IRbine 
 
 HT HIS is the Rhine, the haunted Rhine! 
 The chastened glow of evening falls 
 On emerald waves and craggy walls, 
 
 On the golden green of the bending vine, 
 On the storied Rhine. 
 
 Athwart the cliffs the gold lights slide ; 
 
 They tremble along the shadowed stream, 
 They fire with swiftly dying gleam 
 
 The little boats that slowly glide 
 On the quiet tide. 
 
 Sweet it were to drift for ever 
 
 Between the broad Rhine's towered walls, 
 Above his jewelled water-halls, 
 
 Above strange things that glance and quiver 
 Beneath the river. 
 
io PRELUDE 
 
 Was the bark wrought by mortal hand ? 
 It is unsubstantial as a gleam, 
 And we, the shapes of a formless dream, 
 
 Float shadowy, like a spirit band 
 From faery land. 
 
 What is the song, the wondrous song, 
 That winds about the winding river, 
 Winding about and changing ever, 
 
 Now sad with deep and deadly wrong, 
 Now sweet and strong ? 
 
 Is it the fairy's charmed lay, 
 
 That takes the fisher, home returning, 
 And fills him with a nameless yearning 
 
 Till he follows entranced away, away 
 From the light of day? 
 
 Is it a voice from the dim, dark Eld, 
 That thrills the waters laid to sleep, 
 That echoes along the castled steep, 
 
 How valiant men those towers held, 
 In the dim, dark Eld ? 
 
 Is it the cry of patriot blood, 
 
 That hallows the wave from age to age 
 Is it the shriek of robber rage, 
 
 That ever has stained the holy flood 
 With alien blood ? 
 
THE RHINE II 
 
 The voice of legend old and dim, 
 
 Of fairy revel and fairy feast ? 
 
 The cry of the fierce and tortured priest, 
 Or warrior's shout or monk's sweet hymn, 
 By the river's brim ? 
 
 Or the tale of the dragon-guarded gold, 
 A hero's dower to a wronged bride, 
 Wrung of heart and crushed in pride, 
 
 When into the sunless wave they rolled 
 The fateful gold? 
 
 Are the weird mist-children dwelling there ? 
 Do they guard beneath the emerald floor 
 The blood-stained treasure's mystic store, 
 
 Do they wait and watch with weapons bare 
 In the magic glare ? 
 
 The topmost cliffs are tipped with gold, 
 The climbing forest's winding maze 
 Is wrapped in amethystine haze, 
 
 Crimson lights are sunk and rolled 
 In the waters cold. 
 
 A towered city is shining fair 
 
 In the glowing eve, and a gold-green sky 
 Looks down on the vineyards terraced high, 
 
 The boat glides on like a passing care, 
 In the perfumed air. 
 
12 PRELUDE 
 
 I trow a maiden is gazing down 
 
 In the balmy eve from her crag-built bower ; 
 
 And a hid knight sings at the trysted hour ; 
 He clings to the rocks that perilous frown 
 On the water brown. 
 
 The river spirit is floating dim 
 
 In the shadowy folds of darkening cliffs, 
 His trailed robe draws the passing skiffs, 
 
 He sings, as he brushes the water's brim, 
 His mystical hymn. 
 
 Beware of the touch of his mantle's hem ! 
 
 If it but sweep the vessel's rim, 
 
 We are caught in the fold of his raiment dim, 
 We are dazed by the light of the pale green gem 
 In his diadem. 
 
 Now the last glance of passing day 
 
 Reddens a turret, far and fair ; 
 
 Dimly seen on the rocky stair, 
 A peasant is climbing his homeward way 
 In the shadows gray. 
 
 He hears the music, faint and strange, 
 He crosses himself for fear, I ween, 
 Looks up at the crags that over him lean ; 
 
 Higher and higher they seem to range 
 As the shadows change. 
 
THE RHINE 13 
 
 Our bark was never of mortal mould 
 Over the water's silent tide, 
 Swift and sure as thought, we glide 
 
 Into the shades that softly fold 
 The waters cold. 
 
 Who with us in the viewless bark 
 
 Will float and dream on the storied Rhine? 
 
 Who will look for the magic shine 
 Of treasure deep in the hidden ark 
 Of the waters dark ? 
 
H CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 LAY THE FIRST 
 
 Cbriembilb's 2>ream 
 
 i. 
 
 p\ REAMS hold the cradled babe in peace 
 
 profound, 
 
 Blend with the perfume of joy's earliest blooms ; 
 This mortal life is folded and enwound 
 
 By deeper, stronger life, whence awful glooms, 
 The shades and semblances of mighty dooms, 
 Or the dim reflex of majestic deeds 
 
 From that vague world whose shape so darkly 
 
 looms 
 
 Upon us, cross our sleep ; and he who heeds 
 With careful thought these shades, life's veiled 
 future reads. 
 
 II. 
 
 For while the infant plays the sisters spin ; 
 He sports unthinking in the shining sun, 
 And the grim Norns the fated web begin ; 
 His spirit blooms, his passions, one by one, 
 Enkindle, and the mesh is ever spun 
 Around him. So he springs to manhood's grace : 
 
 This way or that he proudly deems to run 
 The awful lists arrayed for life's stern race, 
 Nor recks upon his brow the dread Norns 3 secret 
 trace. 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 15 
 
 ill. 
 But when in silence of the shadowed night 
 
 He lies in youth's deep slumber softly bound, 
 Like levin on his spirit's inner sight 
 
 Strange scenes burst, and he looks as one astound, 
 As some wise seer, held in magic swound, 
 Beholds the lifting of the awful veil, 
 
 Hears the strong accents of a speech profound ; 
 Nor knows, but dimly bodes, some coming bale, 
 And wakes with bristling hair and features wild 
 and pale. 
 
 TV. 
 
 He wakes ; nor heeds he in the morning's joy 
 The things that froze his blood in midnight still, 
 
 Nor knows the Future on the dreaming boy 
 Hath gazed, or that the shade of coming ill 
 Or good hath wrought this deep and deadly chill ; 
 
 Nor of the dream that wraps the troubled dream 
 We call our life, nor of the bounds to will 
 
 The Norns must set us, does the glad youth deem: 
 
 There are who know, they know fate's source and 
 life's high stream. 
 
 v. 
 
 O thou, who broodest on the chaos dread 
 
 Of cosmic life ; who through their tangled maze 
 
 The homeless stars hast steered, and safely led 
 This air-poised bark through world-storms and 
 the blaze 
 
16 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 Of dying planets ; sleep her soft wing lays 
 Not on thee, O Unwearied, nor may dream 
 
 Thee touch ; all things show clear beneath the rays 
 Of thy dread glance ; Eternal, thee we deem 
 Of life, fate, power, and love the source and end 
 supreme ; 
 
 VI. 
 
 And thou our rough-hewn, rudely-fashioned ends 
 
 Dost exquisitely shape with perfect skill, 
 Thou the fierce passion that so lavish spends 
 
 Its strength, all gently swayst beneath thy will ; 
 
 Even evil things and vile at last fulfil 
 Unwitting thy behest, and thou dost wring 
 
 From darkness light, and ordered calm distil 
 From th 1 everlasting storm, and quiet bring 
 From fury, thou above all tumult reignest king! 
 
 VII. 
 The boy wakes ; but a shadow clouds his path, 
 
 Erewhile so sunny, and a memory 
 Of awfulness, as of a high god's wrath 
 
 Or high god's lofty love that gloriously 
 
 Enfolds some mortal in divinity, 
 Until the hour of glory or of gloom 
 
 Shall strike, and he behind the veil shall see 
 That, shadowless, which erst did vaguely loom ; 
 Thus lives he, all unvexed by thought of coming 
 doom. 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 17 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So with Chriemhild it fared, Chriemhild, the child 
 
 Of Uta, sprung from the Burgundian line 
 Of princes, they who ruled with sceptre mild 
 
 At Worms, the ancient city by the Rhine. 
 
 Uta had seen, before his strength's decline, 
 Her king fall pallid in the clutch of death ; 
 
 Then strove she, lest in grief her soul should pine, 
 And gave herself to train, with loyal faith, 
 The girl and three fair boys who breathed her lost 
 king's breath. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now, on the threshold of life's flowery May, 
 The maiden paused in dawning loveliness, 
 
 Unvexed by any shadow, night or day ; 
 And, as life in the cell, before the impress 
 Of pollened anther in the light caress 
 
 The dainty flower-cup's honeyed beauty hides, 
 Lies unawakened, so to bane or bless 
 
 Lay unknown germs in her ; as ocean tides 
 
 Unknowing seek the moon, she to her life's goal 
 glides. 
 
 x. 
 
 The day was done ; long shadows stilly fell 
 Upon the broad breast of the mighty Rhine, 
 
 The forest slept as in a low-breathed spell, 
 The peasant left the pruning of his vine, 
 
 B 
 
i8 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 More redly glowed the ruddy stems of pine, 
 The sun's last glories stained the towers tall 
 
 And hoary ramparts, as with heavenly wine, 
 From woodlands far the wood -dove's plaintive 
 
 call 
 
 Blent with the varied song of myriad minstrels 
 small. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Upon the bastioned wall the princely maid 
 Moved silent in the evening's chastened light, 
 
 No more she led the dance, no more she played 
 With noble damsels, who, in flower- wreaths dight, 
 Mad* merry sport from May-day morn till night. 
 
 Nor would she taste the scented, spiced May-wine, 
 But gazed afar, as though her spirit's sight 
 
 Saw what on mortal eye-ball may not shine : 
 
 So in her castle fared the princess by the Rhine. 
 
 XII. 
 
 This Uta saw, and knew the maiden vexed 
 By shadows ; for the queen was skilled in lore, 
 
 Not earthly; mighty warriors, perplexed 
 
 In dream or counsel, laid their thoughts before 
 That woman sage, and she, to whom the door 
 
 Of hidden things had opened, gazed with eye 
 Far-visioned, and the veils from mystery tore : 
 
 Thus heroes honoured her with reverence high 
 
 As one who dwelt above our frail mortality. 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 19 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Night fell apace ; the May-day mirth was done, 
 The silent world in silvery sheen lay dressed, 
 
 Deep slumber held the earth from sun to sun ; 
 But Chriemhild, oft with mystic dream oppressed, 
 Started with parching lip and throbbing breast, 
 
 And ere the dawning streamed in liquid gold 
 Through the strait casement, she from broken rest 
 
 Arose and saw the dewy day unfold ; 
 
 And, later, to the queen her visions dim she told. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Methought," she said, "and twice I dreamed the 
 
 same, 
 
 Abroad in woods I fared in bloomy May, 
 And heard small birds sing, when a falcon came, 
 Of noble plume, and in the flowery way 
 He stood, and me with looks did mutely pray. 
 Then I, for that I greatly feared to tread 
 
 That narrow path, lest I the hawk should slay, 
 My scarf waved, deeming that he would have fled, 
 But to my wrist he flew and perched, devoid of 
 dread. 
 
 xv. 
 
 "At this I greatly loved the gallant fowl, 
 
 And took him home, and from my own hand fed. 
 
 Jesses I broidered and a silken cowl, 
 And set a perch for him beside my bed, 
 
20 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 And him I found in hawk's art nobly bred ; 
 Then nowhere joyed the bird save on my wrist, 
 
 But whoso chid me pecked he that he bled, 
 And oftentimes the gentle bird I kissed, 
 Nor would he meat or drink if I his feeding missed. 
 
 XVI. 
 "All this I dreamed ; but more remains behind, 
 
 So dim, so wondrous, as no speech may tell ; 
 Meseemed one day my falcon in the wind 
 
 Was hovering, and I watched in joy, so well 
 
 The hawk poised ; when two eagles fierce and fell 
 I saw above my gentle tercelet soar ; 
 
 I cried ; but as he flew upon the swell 
 Of wind to me, the eagles swooped and bore 
 My bird to earth, and him with crooked beaks 
 fiercely tore. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " They tore my gallant hawk before my eyes, 
 Nor could I hinder them that they him ate, 
 
 And then with bloody beaks I saw them rise 
 On kingly plumes ; and deep and deadly hate 
 Burnt in me when those fierce birds soared elate, 
 
 While I was left to weep my falcon slain. 
 And them long while in ambush did I wait 
 
 With archers, till I slew those birds ; and stain 
 
 Of blood fell on me; then I waked in dread and pain. 71 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 21 
 
 XVIII. 
 Thus, with wide eyes and quivering nostril fine, 
 
 The princess spake, yet all to tell forebore. 
 And Uta, " Well may I that dream divine 
 
 And glad am I to rede thee of my lore ; 
 
 The gallant falcon that the eagles tore 
 Is some great hero, who thy love shall gain 
 
 And, in such bliss as mortal not before 
 Hath known, shalt thou with him the golden chain 
 Of love wear ; but at last thy hero shall be slain. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " For all beneath the moon must have an end ; 
 
 Yea, this wide frame of earth and stars and sun 
 Shall like a shadow pass. But God thee lend 
 
 His mercy, that thy husband be not done 
 
 To death in youth ! " Then Chriemhild stood as one 
 Astonished, and her tresses' wavy gold 
 
 Shone in the vaulted chamber's twilight dim ; 
 And the queen marvelled at the graceful mould 
 Of her whose burgeoned bloom but promised to 
 unfold. 
 
 XX. 
 
 And there, as Chriemhild stood, the window pane, 
 With deeds of ancient warriors blazoned fair, 
 
 Let the May sunshine fall in rosy stain 
 
 Upon her clasped white hands and shining hair. 
 
22 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 Then turned she shuddering from the crimson 
 
 glare 
 And moved towards the arras ; then again 
 
 Returned, and stood before the carven chair 
 Of Uta then she spoke, with light disdain 
 Thrilling her voice that marked her soul of noble 
 strain. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " And speakest thou of hero's love to me ? 
 
 Nay, mother, never shall Chriemhild resign 
 Her maiden freedom, and the dignity 
 
 Of self-reliant joy to waste and pine 
 
 For man's love ; never hero shall be mine, 
 Though moulded as a god, perfection's star, 
 
 Though passing all the lordly lofty line 
 Of our divine forefathers ; for great war 
 With loving comes, and woe and death love's 
 music mar." 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Then Uta, wise with years, looked down and smiled, 
 As those who know. " Be not too sure," she said ; 
 
 " If thou wilt drink of joy's full cup, fair child, 
 Man's love alone can fill it. Thou shalt wed 
 A mighty hero ; thus shalt thou be fed 
 
 With bliss. Thou knowest not the strength and stay 
 Of a good, great man's love ; Heaven's mercy shed 
 
 This blessing on our frail and suffering clay ; 
 
 Thy weakness know'st thou not, or life's thorn- 
 tangled way." 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 23 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Full softly sighed the widowed queen and wan, 
 Musing her own love's early darkened beam : 
 
 " Fair daughter, ever since the world began, 
 This is the minstrel's dearest, sweetest theme, 
 This love which shadows forth, as some clear 
 stream 
 
 A tower, Christ's loftier love to his fair bride ; 
 But of its sweetness only those may deem 
 
 Who once the mighty spell have fitly tried, 
 
 And who once tastes of love all solace scorns beside. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Why are we soft and fragile, prone to fears, 
 Why pine our spirits frail for love and care, 
 
 How in the deathful dance of levelled spears, 
 When the hoarse raven's banquet taints the air, 
 How in the single sword-fight should we fare, 
 
 How, in the dark, deep forest's tangled maze, 
 The lean wolfs spring, or fierce boar's fury dare? 
 
 In counsel, love, and solace lies our praise, 
 
 And much we need man's care and strength through 
 life's rough ways." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then a swift lightning lit the azure mild 
 
 Of Chriemhild's eyes, and quickly she replied, 
 
 " Methinks the spirit of my father's child 
 
 Might meet the surge of battle's roaring tide, 
 
24 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 Or face the grim beast in the forest wide ; 
 But let that pass. A maiden's dignity 
 
 In deep seclusion dwells. And never bride 
 Of hero or of king shall Chriemhild be ; 
 
 Youth's primal joy would I keep pure and sorrow- 
 free. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Fair mother, never yet was wife or maid 
 
 Her soul that yold to sweet, seductive spell 
 Of love, but she with anguish trebly paid 
 
 The brief, bright bliss that to her portion fell. 
 
 Oft have I heard old wives at twilight tell 
 Of gentle maiden loved and left forlorn, 
 
 And minstrels sweetest sing when most they dwell 
 On bleeding hearts pierced through by love's sharp 
 
 thorn ; 
 
 Thus, in the lighted hall, they sing how lovers 
 mourn." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Oh ! why so blythe, sweet ladye, 
 
 When the white snow folds the lea, 
 Where the long, black night lies brooding, 
 And the blast howls angrily?" 
 
 " Oh ! how should I be sighing, 
 
 When my true knight rides to me 
 Through the bitter blast's fierce howling, 
 Where the white snow folds the lea ? " 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 25 
 
 "Ah ! why so sad, sweet ladye, 
 
 When the May is beaming bright 
 And the merry May-dance whirling 
 And the May-meads lapped in light ? " 
 
 "Ah ! how should I be laughing, 
 
 When my love lies cold and white, 
 No might in the hero's sword-arm, 
 In his starry eyes no light ? " 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " Hark to my brother in the court below, 
 
 While merry birds are singing sweet of May, 
 He sings of love, and love repaid by woe ; 
 
 God guard the lad from love for many a day ! 
 
 Sweet mother, I with thee will ever stay, 
 With thee and my young brothers will I dwell ; 
 
 So shall my life untroubled have its way, 
 Like some full-flowing stream majestic swell ; 
 Or in yon abbey gray find me a quiet cell. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " There will I read old tales, by dead men told, 
 And wear away long nights in musings high ; 
 
 For heaven to maiden vigils doth unfold 
 The secrets oft of our humanity : 
 There on the abbey terraces, that lie 
 
 Above the kingly river's emerald tide, 
 The virtue hid of root and herb will I 
 
 Discover, and sick folk from far and wide 
 
 Will heal ; and many an art and joy make known 
 beside. 
 
26 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " But liever in this ancient hall of kings 
 
 With thee and with my brethren I would be ; 
 
 Then oft some holy priest of lofty things 
 
 Might reason ; then sick, poor folk I might see 
 And solace ; and with maidens, sorrow-free, 
 
 Abroad in spring through greenwood alleys fare 
 With hawk and hound, or in a boat with thee 
 
 Adown the river float in summer air, 
 
 And tend sweet flowers and birds and bees, and 
 have no care. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 "And, when grim winter with his tempests keen 
 And icy fangs begins to rudely chide, 
 
 With dance and minstrelsy" But here the queen 
 Checked the fair princess in her joyous tide 
 Of day-dream, and full tenderly replied, 
 
 " And wilt thou have thy heart untouched by care ? 
 Poor maiden ! Gold in flame is purified, 
 
 High God through sorrow makes man's spirit fair, 
 
 And thou of woe's fierce flame must have thy fated 
 share. 
 
 XXXI. 
 " Yea, thou must sorrow and thou must rejoice 
 
 Beyond the common ; for thy heart beats strong 
 Beyond the common ; and to man the choice 
 
 Is not. Yet in thine anguish let no wrong 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 27 
 
 Thee conquer ; not as slaves who bear the thong 
 And scourge, bear thou the loving wrath of heaven ; 
 
 Who nobly sorrows will not sorrow long. 
 God grant man's treachery be never given 
 As poison in thy cup, nor bonds of blood be riven ! ' 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Here Uta crossed herself and turned in haste 
 
 And spoke more cheerily. " But not with woe 
 Would I thee sadden ; deep joy shalt thou taste, 
 
 Yea, with love's bliss thy cup shall overflow. 
 
 Oh ! bitter is her lot who walks below 
 On this bleak earth alone ; what shield hath she 
 
 From rudest blasts of scorn ? Well doth she know 
 The hard, cold, pitiless world's scant charity, 
 Knows well that for the weak there is no liberty. 
 
 xxxin. 
 " Yea, like a fair rose in a dungeon's night, 
 
 Her beauty wastes, her sweetness is not known ; 
 Well to a cloister may she take her flight, 
 
 And hide in mighty arms of loveless stone. 
 
 Dreary it is to sit at night alone 
 And muse by crackling pine-logs, or to gaze 
 
 Through lattice bars upon the blue void strown 
 With holy watchfires ; drear to hear the lays 
 Of mated birds, and walk green woods and flowery 
 ways. 
 
28 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 " Dreary it is to feel high powers waste 
 In dark oblivion, like brave fruits that rot 
 
 Untasted ; for, if we not by men are braced 
 And strengthened, very darksome were their lot 
 Without us ; who should curb the rash and hot 
 
 Intemperance of their blood, who soothe their pain, 
 Who plant for them a green and gracious spot 
 
 In life's dry desert, who with silken chain 
 
 Of purer, gentler thought their world-worn spirits 
 rein ? 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " For when high God eternal would create 
 
 The crown of all his creatures, not alone 
 One made he them, but twain, each with his mate, 
 
 Before divine breath in our clay was blown ; 
 
 Of other each is part, as bone of bone. 
 And know, fair child, before the babe's first cry 
 
 The flower of woman's soul is still unknown, 
 Till she gives life she lives not quite, though high 
 Her soul's aim ; for her best locked in her heart 
 must lie. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 " Wilt never hear the voices silvery sweet 
 
 Of little clinging children cry to thee ? 
 Like some half builded temple, incomplete, 
 
 Unconsecrate by mysteries high, wilt be ? 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 29 
 
 Or rather, like some fair and fruitful tree 
 Wide-branching, yield refreshing food and shade, 
 
 That living creatures bless thy charity, 
 That in thy boughs full-brooded nests are made, 
 And at thy roots young lambs in noontide heats 
 are laid ?" 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Now, Chriemhild by a pillar stood inclined 
 Before the queen, and at her knee a hound 
 
 Crouched fawning ; him she stroked with absent 
 
 mind, 
 
 And ever in her ear the low, sweet sound, 
 Like music touched by harper's skilful hand, 
 
 Of singing from the court an echo found, 
 To Uta's voice. And deep in musings bound 
 
 She paused, as she would seek to understand 
 
 Themes that were tangled fast in mystery's shadowy 
 band. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Deep-hearted Uta watched the dreamy haze 
 Shadow the summer sunlight of her eyes, 
 
 And deemed, and rightly deemed, that on her gaze 
 Life opened in new forms that did surprise 
 And charm and terrify ; as one that tries 
 
 A never-mounted steed, so, in her mind, 
 The princess visioned yet unvisioned ties, 
 
 And felt strange joys about her heart-strings wind, 
 
 Then moved, as she some spell of magic would 
 unbind. 
 
30 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 She moved, upon her lips a swift smile fled, 
 
 The shadows left her sweet eyes, dewy blue, 
 A little loftier held her gold-bound head, * 
 
 And turned, like bird impatient of his mew ; 
 
 " Fair Mother, wise are all thy words and true ; 
 But every creature doeth like his kindL; 
 
 Stags roam by day, but wolves when falls the dew 
 From starry skies ; I would be unconfined 
 By love-bands, and alone and strong down life's 
 vale wind. 
 
 XL. 
 
 " For I am not, as many a gentle maid 
 
 I know, slight-built, a soft and fragile thing ; 
 
 Freedom I love ; I am not soon afraid ; 
 Then why should I about a hero cling, 
 As others use ? For bards of old time sing 
 
 Of might not earthly, given to maidenhood, 
 That on the marriage morn takes instant wing ; 
 
 Old sagas tell of choosers of the dead, 
 
 Strong maids, and Valas wise, who in the future 
 read : 
 
 XLI. 
 
 "And how are they beyond all women blest, 
 Those virgins pure who live in convent cell ! 
 
 Hath ever wedded wife such joys confessed 
 As they of vision high and vigil tell ? 
 
CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 31 
 
 And why should maidens lone and useless dwell ? 
 Who better may the wounded warrior tend, 
 
 Or gather orphans in the gentle spell 
 Of charity, who long night-watches spend 
 So well in searchings deep of things that cannot 
 end? 
 
 XLII. 
 
 " Yet rather I unfettered would abide 
 
 Without the cloister ; for I love the sun 
 And bright, blithe things, and would not darkly 
 
 glide, 
 
 Like hidden stream, among the shadows dun ; 
 But, like some mountain beck, rejoicing run 
 And leap with singing over crag and moss 
 
 In sunlight. Now, sweet mother, I have done; 
 The morning ages, and the lindens toss 
 Their arms in joy, and shake their new robes' silken 
 gloss. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 " Come out, and joy thee in the merry May 
 
 Before it fades." Then rose the widowed queen, 
 And, set on palfreys fair, they took their way 
 
 Down from the hoary burg through alleys green. 
 
 And many a courtly dame, in satin sheen, 
 And fair-haired page, silk-suited, swelled their train, 
 
 With maidens, brighter than the sunny scene 
 Around them. Thus with dance and minstrel strain 
 They filled the woods till eve blushed out in blood- 
 red stain. 
 
32 CHRIEMHILD'S DREAM 
 
 SONG. 
 Play on, play on 
 
 In the merry May, 
 Though the sisters are spinning 
 
 By night and by day. 
 
 Sing on, sing on, 
 
 While the world is young. 
 Ere the dark hour strike 
 
 On the iron tongue. 
 
 Laugh on, laugh on, 
 While laugh you may; 
 
 The swift hours are snatching 
 Sweet youth away. 
 
 Dance on, dance on 
 In the shining spring, 
 
 Nor dream in the mad whirls 
 What winter may bring. 
 
 Laugh on, laugh on, 
 While the earth is so fair, 
 
 Ere the soft-blowing woodlands 
 Are leafless and bare. 
 
 Sing on, sing on ; 
 
 Over flower-bound brows 
 Glooms the weird sisters' spinning 
 
 By mystical boughs. 
 
LAY THE SECOND 
 
 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
II. 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 3f crest* 
 
 /"~\H, let us pierce the billowy gloom 
 
 That greenly wraps the mountain-side, 
 The woodland, clothing crest and coombe 
 With beauty. There white lilies bloom, 
 Silk-sheathed, beneath oak branches wide, 
 Where sunlights slide. 
 
 A stag down yon green vista fleets, 
 A thousand joyous insects hum ; 
 High up the leafy archway meets, 
 Tall lindens dream of summer sweets ; 
 On deep-mossed pathways footfalls come, 
 All hushed and dumb. 
 
 Sweet woodruff breaks in balmy snow 
 
 Beneath the columned aisles of beech, 
 Whose shining leaves the sunlight throw 
 In dimmed and broken shafts below, 
 I hear the nuthatch tap his breach, 
 And the cuckoo's speech. 
 
36 PRELUDE 
 
 Oh, the life and the joy of the gay greenwood, 
 
 The glad live things that glance and play, 
 The song that falls in a silvery flood, 
 The beast in his lair and the bird with her brood, 
 The bees, and the blossoms that light the way 
 In the greenwood gay ! 
 
 Beneath this mighty oaken dome, 
 
 Where gnarled boughs gather a hoary gloom, 
 By silvery birch and prickly holm, 
 Beneath the princely beeches, roam 
 
 To a glade where the light fern lifts his plume 
 And the whitethorns bloom, 
 
 Roam on, and leave the weary world, 
 
 And all its striving, all its care ; 
 Look down on the wave that is gently swirled 
 By the linden roots, all mossed and pearled 
 
 With wet ; look back at the vaultings fair 
 The beech-shafts bear. 
 
 Here belike, in the olden time, 
 
 Some maiden, bound in a dim, dread spell, 
 Sat spinning in beauty beneath the lime, 
 When she heard the hunter's music chime, 
 
 And the fair prince saw her beside the well, 
 And loosed her spell. 
 
THE FOREST 37 
 
 Sweet is the glade with shade and sun 
 
 And the quiet speech of wave and wind ; 
 ; T is sweet, the sands of noontide run, 
 To pace the pine* wood's cloister dun, 
 Whose red-ribbed vaults of branches twined 
 To sun are blind. 
 
 This is the fane of the dim Unseen, 
 
 Of hidden powers high and vast ; 
 An awful stillness breathes serene, 
 Though deep-toned chants roll up between, 
 
 As the black roof sighs to the long-drawn blast 
 That is sweeping past. 
 
 A grey light gleams beyond the pines, 
 
 Where a torrent roars by a rock-built tower, 
 Then gloom anew the lofty lines 
 Of pillared stems ; the day declines ; 
 And now the sprites of the wood have power 
 At the glooming hour. 
 
 The pine-wood breaks ; a crimson sun 
 Fires all the rugged mountain walls. 
 What treasure rests in the caverns dun, 
 Deep where the day has never shone ; 
 What jewels gleam in the echoing halls, 
 Where no foot falls. 
 
38 PRELUDE 
 
 Far beneath, the elfin guard, 
 
 Low of stature, swart of limb, 
 With glittering eyes keep watch and ward ; 
 Woe to him who, evil-starred, 
 
 Meets them in their caverns dim, 
 Those watchers grim ! 
 
 And woe to whom by sweet moonlight 
 
 The water-spirits' revel breaks, 
 Or sees the strange and lovely sight 
 Of dancing elves and gnomes by night ; 
 
 If the elfin song his spirit takes 
 No more he wakes. 
 
 It is an eerie thing by night 
 
 To pace the forest's long arcades, 
 Where myriad things beyond the sight 
 Move darkling, where the moon gleams white 
 
 In doubtful shapes on distant glades, 
 Beyond the shades. 
 
 The glow-worm's lantern greenly beams, 
 
 And white stars pierce the opening roof; 
 Come cheerly on, though the world of dreams 
 Breathes heavily round, and the wolfs eye gleams 
 From under the covert's leafy woof, 
 Where he watches aloof; 
 
THE FOREST 39 
 
 Come cheerly on ! Deep, deep below 
 
 The forest slopes dark to the river's brim. 
 But yonder I see a ruddy glow ; 
 Are they dwarfs or gnomes, whose shadows go, 
 Fitful and wild in the firelight dim, 
 Are they spectres grim ? 
 
 Nor gnome nor sprite, but of mortal mould, 
 They move by the charcoal-burner's fire ; 
 Rough hands, warm hearts, and spirits bold, 
 Their bitter sweat for scant bread sold ; 
 Here is their hut with its little byre 
 By the dark fir spire. 
 
 Here we may rest in the fitful glow, 
 
 Couched king-like on sweet boughs of pine, 
 And watch the weird, wild lustre show 
 Black sprays above, red stems below, 
 While we pledge our host in the country wine, 
 And the sweet stars shine. 
 
 The red light plays on his wind-beat face, 
 
 While he tells his legend and sings his song. 
 On a sudden he stops for a little space, 
 And crosses himself, as a sound of grace, 
 A chapel bell, steals sweet along 
 The vaulting strong. 
 
40 PRELUDE 
 
 Nor sprite, nor fay, nor kobold grim 
 
 Hath power while the sweet bell rings ; 
 Birds sleep upon the great oak's limb, 
 Beasts prowl among the shadows dim ; 
 Now slumber sinks with folded wings 
 Till morning springs. 
 
 What dreams will hold the sleepers' souls, 
 
 The sleepers breathing balmy pine ? 
 The forest's murmur round them rolls, 
 The stars sweep on in glittering shoals, 
 The night-wind whispers thoughts divine 
 In music fine. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 41 
 
 LA Y THE SECOND 
 
 Sfegfrteb'a 
 
 T T E stood against the newly-risen sun, 
 
 Before his fathers gates ; a golden haze, 
 
 Like to a regal vesture, featly spun 
 And richly broidered in a wandering maze 
 Of leaf and flower, of bright and broken rays, 
 
 Swept round his lofty form's heroic mould ; 
 Godlike he stood, his armour made a blaze 
 
 Red-glowing in the sun's fresh-burnished gold, 
 
 His shield and spear and sword, rich-jewelled, 
 glittered cold ; 
 
 n. 
 Upon his lip young manhood's early bloom 
 
 Lay lightly, his blue eyes were dewy clear ; 
 The crest that clasped his helmet's floating plume 
 
 A flying dragon seemed, and all his gear 
 
 Was bossed or graven with this shape of fear, 
 So that all men, beholding, Siegfried knew, 
 
 Siegfried, the child of Sigmund, who with spear 
 And sword, undreading, the fierce dragon slew, 
 And from the secret caves the guarded treasure 
 drew. 
 
42 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 in. 
 Thus stood he smiling in the new-rayed sun ; 
 
 Around him grouped his men, a gallant train. 
 With treasure laden, by his prowess won, 
 
 And Sigmund's gifts, robes richly dyed in grain, 
 
 Armour and gems and ruddy gold bright bane 
 Of human hearts a score of waggons rolled. 
 
 Queen Siegelind to keep the lad was fain, 
 Full sore she wept and straitly did enfold 
 Her glorious son in arms that could not loose their 
 hold. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And all who dwelt within the princely hall 
 
 At Santen, built beside the unresting Rhine, 
 Had issued forth, and by the towers tall 
 
 Stood gazing in the morning's early shine ; 
 
 And many an eager soul did inly pine 
 To follow Siegfried on his knightly quest, 
 
 To drink with him of peril's quickening wine, 
 And bright fame pluck from battle's horrent crest ; 
 But Sigmund spake of fears within his boding breast. 
 
 V. 
 " Sore I misdoubt me, fair and noble son," 
 
 He said, " if this thy quest may bring thee good ; 
 Unboding, ere thy glory had begun 
 
 Or thy bright blade yet drunk of any blood, 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 43 
 
 As a man lifts a noble falcon's hood 
 And shows the quarry, did I bid thee go, 
 
 When, like the unblossomed rose, in silken snood 
 Deep-folded, thy great powers far below 
 Thine outward seeming lay in lustre soon to glow. 
 
 VI. 
 
 " I saw thee go, I saw thee come again 
 With joy ; I sent thee empty from my side, 
 
 In tenderest youth, unproven, with no rein 
 To curb thee, save thy young will purified 
 By prayer. And soon thou brought'st me bliss 
 and pride 
 
 And sword-won treasure, O heroic son ! 
 But now thou goest, full of glory, tried 
 
 In peril, mightier than any one 
 
 Of woman born yet I this quest for thee would 
 
 shun. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Thy mother weeps, with secret fears oppressed 
 And omens, such as gloom on wifely soul 
 
 Unstained ; and could we hold thee from thy quest 
 Nor spot thine honour, then were bitter dole 
 Spared the warm hearts where kindled first the coal 
 
 Of thy bright life yet it were better far 
 To see thee lifeless, wrapped in bloody stole, 
 
 Than that vile ease or sloth thy fame should mar, 
 
 And thou from honour's heaven shouldst sweep, a 
 fallen star." 
 
44 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 VIII. 
 Then fair and courteously Prince Siegfried said, 
 
 (His sunny face with hope and joy alight), 
 " Fair sire, sweet mother, on this quest is laid 
 
 My honour ; I have sworn on faith of knight 
 
 To win the fairest, under heaven's bright 
 And starry round ; and did I fail to try ^ 
 
 My fortune, knowing her ye ken in sight 
 Of all men fairest, then would red shame dye 
 My name yet would I not woe on your hearts 
 should lie. 
 
 IX. 
 " And wherefore dread ye ? To the deathful dance 
 
 Of crimsoned spears I go not, but in peace 
 To win the light of beauty's beamy glance 
 
 In bloodless battle, and a maid release, 
 
 Not from fire-breathing dragon, but the ease 
 Of white, unwakened, maiden fantasy ; 
 
 Ye know me strong in fight, I pray you cease 
 Your grieving, speed my parting cheerily, 
 And bless me that I go with spirit sorrow-free." 
 
 x. 
 
 He spoke and bowed him ; on his sunny hair 
 The fresh light played, and all around him shone. 
 
 The princely parents sped with words of prayer 
 Their mighty child ; the liegemen, one by one, 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 45 
 
 Bade farewell. Then, all words of parting done, 
 The hero leapt upon his armoured steed, 
 
 And moving gleamed as sheathed in molten sun, 
 Smiled joyous farewell ; then with easy speed 
 The cloud of shining spears waned slowly to a bead 
 
 XI. 
 
 And ceased. Within the hall the parents went, 
 Musing on Siegfried's deeds and all his might, 
 
 But chiefly how the tidings first were sent 
 
 Of Chriemhild's beauty. It was one wild night 
 Of that tempestuous moon whose fitful light 
 
 Is kindled on the April side of Yule ; 
 The turrets shook with storm, the hall was bright 
 
 With flaming cresset, warm with glowing fuel, 
 
 Where men sat safe and heard the hurt winds wail 
 and pule. 
 
 XII. 
 
 So fierce a night it was, the song and tale 
 That oft beguile the warman's hearth were still ; 
 
 The rugged music of the rattling hail, 
 The war-god's arrows, and the wailings shrill 
 Of baffled spirits wreaking their wild will 
 
 In tempest on the burg's embattled towers, 
 
 Held the strong warriors' hearts with awe, until 
 
 A flash of green fire lit the sleety showers, 
 
 Gleamed in the hall and passed, and then the rolling 
 powers 
 
46 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XIII. 
 Of Thor's deep thunder all the heavens broke, 
 
 And Siegfried's men upstarted, unawares, 
 When a tall pinnacle beneath the stroke 
 
 Fell crashing, so that men, in the swift glares 
 
 Out-gazing from the pane with dazzled stares, 
 Saw the stone crumble in the court below ; 
 
 Then gathered the strong fury of the airs 
 And smote the oaken gates so fierce a blow, 
 The hasps and staples snapped, and slowly to and fro 
 
 XIV. 
 The heavy gates swung grating on the yard 
 
 All heard them in the lulling of the wind. 
 Then rose the Dragon-slayer and unbarred 
 
 The hall door, gazing out if he might find 
 
 Some foe, but all was lost in darkness blind. 
 Then forth into the gusty storm he fared, 
 
 With many warriors following behind ; 
 And each man in the dark his weapon bared, 
 And fierce, as if in fight, into the blackness glared. 
 
 xv. 
 Now when they reached the gate the moon outbroke 
 
 In sudden glory from a fissured cloud, 
 And, as the youthful prince his challenge spoke, 
 
 He saw the figure of an old man bowed 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 47 
 
 By years ; a monk's gray garment his sole shroud 
 From storm ; upon his white and reverend head 
 
 The keen sleet drove and railed the tempest loud, 
 And forth-leapt blades fierce radiance on him shed ; 
 Him the prince gently hailed, and through the 
 rough storm led. 
 
 XVI. 
 He led him to the warm and lighted hall, 
 
 Nor spake the old man any word until 
 His robe was shaken from its snowy pall, 
 
 Then, wet and wind-beat, pausing on the sill, 
 
 He cried, " Goodwill to men of honest will ! " 
 So, blessing, entered that great hall of kings. 
 
 Then suddenly the roaring blast was still, 
 The wearied tempest folded his wild wings 
 And slept, like Furies charmed by Orpheus' golden 
 strings. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 All rose to do the old man reverence 
 
 While the prince led him to the crackling pine, 
 And he, outglancing from the pent-house dense 
 
 And gray, that shadowed his deep-burning eyne, 
 
 Marked well the stature tall and features fine 
 Of Siegfried, and he smiled a subtle smile ; 
 
 Spreading thin hands before the blaze a sign 
 He made, low murmuring in his beard the while 
 Then watched the hero move and speak in princely 
 style. 
 
48 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XVIII. 
 There lay a shadow on the lustrous brow 
 
 Of Siegfried, and his eyes with brooding thought 
 Were darkened ; for within his soul a vow 
 
 Burned stilly and to high emprise him wrought ; 
 
 A fairy dream in golden mesh had caught 
 His springing manhood, and all things seemed stale 
 
 And profitless until he should have brought 
 That lovely, lofty dream within the pale 
 Of breathing, warm-blood life, and raised its 
 shadowy veil. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And this sweet mystery his spirit took 
 
 With longing past all speech. Long time the dream 
 
 Had stirred within the deep and crystal brook 
 Of consciousness : when morning's youngest beam 
 Touched the far, misty hills with rosy gleam, 
 
 His soul was haunted by a loveliness 
 Beyond all thought ; at evening still, supreme 
 
 It swayed him, till his longing's passionate stress 
 
 Wrought it to maiden semblance, tall, with floating 
 tress 
 
 XX. 
 
 Of purest, beamiest gold ; and deep, sweet eyes 
 Held his, awake or sleeping, in rapt gaze, 
 
 With mystic power like that of winter skies, 
 When large white stars flood all the trackless 
 ways 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 49 
 
 And all night long in silent glory blaze : 
 Then in devotion to that lovely thing 
 
 His strong soul bowed, and old heroic lays 
 Swept deeper, stronger, through the tuneful string 
 Of life, and all his thoughts soared up on mightier 
 wing. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Till a most deadly weight of loneliness 
 
 Crushed blank upon him ; then at times a sound 
 
 Of silvery speech his thrilling ear would bless ; 
 Anon swift spells of deep emotion bound 
 His soul and all his powers in magic wound ; 
 
 So in the silence of his secret breast 
 The stir within a path to action found, 
 
 And Siegfried vowed to seek the loveliest 
 
 And win ; but never this to living wight confessed. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Thus with the prince it fared, and thus his brow 
 Was shadowed, and all present joys were vain. 
 
 In his soul's inmost cell he nursed the vow, 
 Brooding on nobler deeds and vaster gain 
 Of glory, till his glorious youth with pain 
 
 He viewed, as all unworthy in the light 
 
 Of maiden glances ; for the instinctive strain 
 
 Of Nature lifts fair souls to summits bright, 
 
 Keen-aired and pure: thus seemed it in the stranger's 
 sight. 
 
 D 
 
50 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And ever held he in his burning gaze 
 The Dragon-slayer, moving in the hall. 
 
 Now, while this old man rested by the blaze, 
 The serving-folk brought meats, and set them all 
 On tables in the light of torches tall 
 
 By warriors borne. And then with music came 
 The king and queen ; beneath a golden pall 
 
 They sat on high, enringed with knight and dame, 
 
 And bards to citherns sang brave deeds of olden 
 fame. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Then flowed red wine and golden gleaming mead, 
 And on the singers fell a fire divine : 
 
 Of ancient gods, who ruled before the creed 
 Of Christ, the king, dark places made to shine, 
 And of dim things that boded their decline, 
 
 Of Vala, Valkyr, of the dwellings fair 
 
 Of gods, the mighty snake whose coils entwine 
 
 The world beneath that tree whose branches bear 
 
 All living things they sang, and powers of earth 
 and air ; 
 
 xxv. 
 
 " Their glory and their strength have passed away, 
 And fallen is every bright and awful throne," 
 
 So sang, compassionate of vanished sway, 
 Those bards in wild and wailful minor tone. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 51 
 
 Then the old man his wanderings made known 
 From shrine to shrine in countries strange and far, 
 
 Till every listening face seemed carven stone, 
 Nor dared men breathe, lest they his tale should mar; 
 His words in music rang like some deep-chiming 
 star. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Yea, and the king and queen hung breathlessly 
 Upon the strange charm of the old man's tongue ; 
 
 Anon they asked themselves, " How may it be 
 That he such music from the stars hath wrung ?" 
 The cressets flickered and the arras, hung 
 
 Around, waved all its broidered mimicry 
 Of battle, chase, and lute by lover strung, 
 
 As stirred by airs divine. Then suddenly 
 
 He ceased, and all sprang up as from a spell 
 set free. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now when the feast was ended, and the queen 
 
 And king withdrawn, all gathered in the glow 
 Of high-stacked logs, the while the guest, with mien 
 
 Unchanged, spake on to all the listening row ; 
 
 He spake of beauty : " Many maids I know, 
 Fair, wise, and noble, but the fairest flower, 
 
 The princeliest, the purest earth can show, 
 Blooms sweet and still in far, secluded bower 
 At Worms, where brethren three sway one united 
 power." 
 
52 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 As when a spark leaps from a hunter's fire 
 
 And, snatched by winds, is dropped on moorland 
 
 brake 
 
 Sun-dried, the waste is wrapped in garment dire 
 Of sudden flame, nor dew nor rain may slake, 
 So fared the prince ; he felt his bright dream wake 
 To breathing bloom, felt all the smouldering heat 
 
 Within his bosom blaze, great yearnings take 
 His breathless soul in Love's strong spell and 
 
 sweet ; 
 
 Then mused he what high deed to win her would 
 be meet. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And, as the vermeil deepens in the rose 
 When the young day leaps through the flame- 
 barred east, 
 Till crimson glory from its portal flows, 
 
 Stirring warm nests and wakening bird and beast, 
 So the firm red in Siegfried's face increased, 
 Hearing this ancient man of Chriemhild tell ; 
 And much he questioned ; nor would he have 
 
 ceased 
 
 But that the sage on other subjects fell, 
 Charming his listeners 7 hearts, he spake so wise 
 and well. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 53 
 
 XXX. 
 
 He spake so well, that all things heard him fain, 
 
 Warman and serving-man and hawk and hound, 
 Even carved and painted men and flames, the 
 
 chain 
 
 Of eloquence so mightily enwound, 
 That they warm sentient life a moment found ; 
 And round the hoary sage with chime of bell 
 The hawks, by dreaming falconer unbound, 
 Pressed closely; no one marked them in the 
 
 spell, 
 
 And how the long night closed not one at morn 
 could tell. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And of the stranger they no trace could find, 
 But each man marvelled had he dreamed a 
 
 dream ; 
 
 His wild words seemed as when sleep's coils unwind 
 From waking souls in morning's dewy beam, 
 And they of fleeting glories vaguely deem, 
 Striving in vain to grasp the vanished clue 
 
 Of arrowy joys, that pass with fitful gleam 
 Athwart the brain's dark chamber. These things 
 
 threw 
 
 On Chriemhild's name a light of bale that daily 
 grew. 
 
54 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 But Siegfried held him closely to his oath 
 And straight began his journey to prepare ; 
 
 Nor did his sire restrain though sorely loth 
 To send him. Thus, when April's tender air 
 Breathed sun and shower on field and forest bare, 
 
 And prisoned life burst forth in loveliness, 
 And Nature, maid-like, blushed to find so fair 
 
 Her beauty in her fresh, flower-cinctured dress, 
 
 Forth fared he, deeply drawn by spring's life-giving 
 stress. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 55 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Siegfrie&'s 
 
 T N the soft splendour of an April noon 
 
 The travellers paused upon the Rhineland shore; 
 The first pale flush of summer's leafy boon 
 
 Touched elm and hazelwood. white cloudlets bore 
 Shadow and sunlight in their voyage o'er 
 A dim, deep sky, as full of mystery 
 
 As olden Saga ; where oak branches hoar 
 Warm coppice hid, heart-stirring melody 
 Came flooding, liquid, pure and rich from blossomed 
 tree ; 
 
 n. 
 
 The cuckoo called, the glancing swallow swept 
 In airy curve, and hummed the roving bee; 
 
 In Siegfried's heart spring's mighty pulses leapt, 
 Earth laughed with lustihood and jollity : 
 Then a swart Niblung, from a lofty tree, 
 
 The kingly towers and spires of Worms descried, 
 So fared they forward over blossomed lea, 
 
 And reached the castle by the river side 
 
 And paused in glittering ranks above the azure tide. 
 
56 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 in. 
 Now the three kings beheld that bright array, 
 
 From a high donjon, and they marvelled all, 
 Musing who might he be that held in sway 
 
 Those warmen, Niblung swart and Teuton tall ; 
 
 The armoured splendours and the golden pall 
 On laden wains, the gems, with wonderment 
 
 They viewed, and deepest awe on them did fall 
 Of Siegfried's strength and beauty ; and they sent 
 For Hagen, liegeman true, their wonder to content. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Von Troneck Hagen, who in many lands 
 
 Had wandered, and all famous heroes knew, 
 All manners strange and tongues; he, their com- 
 mands 
 
 Receiving, swiftly came ; long glanced he through 
 The narrow casement ; then deep breath he drew 
 And said, " All noble heroes have I known 
 
 Save him who won the Niblung gold and slew 
 The dragon, and the sightless cloak alone 
 From Alberich tore ; his fame from land to land is 
 blown." 
 
 v. 
 
 Then spake he briefly of the glorious deeds 
 
 Of Siegfried, ere his manhood's full-dawned morn; 
 
 How all alone, un vexed by dainty needs, 
 He wandered, armoured fully by his scorn 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 57 
 
 Of evil, and all wights of succour lorn 
 He succoured, and from evil magic freed 
 
 Much people, and, by noble yearnings borne, 
 Pressed on o'er barren hill and blossomed mead 
 Into a weird, wild wood and wrought his mightiest 
 deed. 
 
 VI. 
 
 That forest gloomed beneath a blasted heath, 
 Deep, dark, and sunless, chill as moulding tomb ; 
 
 Siegfried, like one adream, drew from its sheath 
 His shining sword, as if some evil doom 
 He felt before him through the shadows loom ; 
 
 And onward pressed beneath the mazes hoar 
 Of thickly branching oaks in deepening gloom ; 
 
 Those gray-haired kings the rose-beams never wore 
 
 From fresh Aurora's brow, or Dian's silvery ore ; 
 
 VII. 
 
 Nor ever blaze of noon or star-beam fell 
 
 Through the thick folding of that living roof, 
 
 No flower that loves the sun her dainty bell 
 Swayed in the breeze, no blossom-braided woof 
 Of moss, soft-spreading, dumbed the passing hoof; 
 
 A ragged undergrowth of tangled brush 
 Strayed in fantastic shapes and held aloof 
 
 The band of princely trunks, and in the hush 
 
 Anon some evil beast made sudden stealthy rush. 
 
58 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The hero made a lustre in the gloom, 
 
 Like diamond dropped in beauty's raven hair, 
 
 And nowise paled his cheeks' young healthy bloom, 
 His sunny curls illumed the dusky air, 
 His drawn sword flashed with fitful lightning glare; 
 
 Firm and serene the tangled path he trod, 
 Now baffled, like a bright bird in a snare, 
 
 Now smitten by the quick rebounding rod 
 
 Of ash or oak, now sunk in lush, marsh-nourished 
 sod. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Only a strange oppression weighed his heart, 
 
 And checked his strong breath in the heavy air ; 
 Now glittering serpents on his path would dart, 
 
 And now he roused a fierce beast from its lair ; 
 
 As moves a brave man, gnawed by myriad care, 
 With dreadless front and never-conquered will, 
 
 So moved the undaunted prince ; and now a stair, 
 Steep-breathed, the path seems, climbing sudden hill, 
 Here giant pines, deep-rooted, balmy scents distil. 
 
 x. 
 
 So fared he till he gained a heathery glade, 
 High up, and heard afar a torrent roar ; 
 
 Athwart the sandy waste his way he made, 
 When a vast moving shadow loomed before, 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 59 
 
 And lo ! a giant clad in wolf-skin bore 
 Upon him, whom the prince full gently hailed ; 
 
 Then the wild man, not bred in courteous lore, 
 The youth for answer with his staff assailed, 
 But Siegfried's sword leapt forth so swift, the giant 
 quailed 
 
 XI. 
 
 And abjectly the prince's grace implored, 
 That Siegfried granted with a light disdain ; 
 
 Then spake the man of Niblung's golden hoard, 
 Of damsel bound in rude oppression's chain, 
 And him would guide across the wind-shorn plain. 
 
 So on they fared in converse, till the guide 
 The youth unguarded found and smote again, 
 
 But the brave boy the huge beam dashed aside 
 
 And fought the giant fell and smote him that he died. 
 
 XII. 
 
 And then, forspent and worn with heavy strife, 
 Down sank the prince upon his bossy shield, 
 
 Musing the words of him whose streaming life 
 Made round his carcase huge a crimson field, 
 When on the wind an anguished crying pealed, 
 
 Far borne ; full swiftly then the hero rose 
 And onward pressed in triple daring steeled, 
 
 Jagged steeps around in narrowing chasm did close 
 
 And mountains soared above him into gleaming 
 snows. 
 
60 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Below his feet a deep gorge darkly yawned, 
 With forest clothed ; far down a river rolled ; 
 
 And lo ! a fearsome brood by demon spawned, 
 Fire-breathing, sharp-winged, from the rocky hold 
 Swarmed out and clanged around him ; then four- 
 fold 
 
 In agony, arose the cry again ; 
 Well wist he then the mountain held the gold 
 
 Of Niblung far in darkly winding vein, 
 
 And he exulting smote the dragon swarm amain. 
 
 XIV. 
 The lofty joy that noble spirits feel 
 
 On life's high summit, when their utmost might 
 Is tested, and, as stricken stone to steel, 
 
 Long hidden fire they yield, whose sudden light 
 Leaps up enkindling flames that quench the night, 
 Thrilled all the deeps of Siegfried's mighty soul ; 
 
 And while he smote, more radiantly bright 
 His bright face grew ; but dark, despairing dole 
 Seized the gold guards, who felt earth's deep-sunk 
 pillars roll. 
 
 xv. 
 
 They felt earth's pillars roll beneath the storm 
 Of that fierce fight and trembled far within ; 
 
 Without, a cloud of fire enwrapped the form 
 Of Siegfried, his fierce-smitten shield a din 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 61 
 
 Tremendous made ; out of the mail-sheathed skin 
 Of those winged monsters hissing crimson poured, 
 
 And some adown the gorge with rapid spin 
 Fell lifeless, till before that deadly sword 
 The whole fierce dragon swarm fled trembling, 
 slashed and gored. 
 
 XVI. 
 Then Siegfried paused victorious, but his blood 
 
 Flowed fast, though he not felt it in the glow ; 
 Wiping his brand, he mused how he the flood 
 
 Might cross, that boiled with giddy swirl below, 
 
 And scale the rocky stronghold of his foe, 
 When the dim air grew black with hissing smoke 
 
 And a long serpent sailed on pinion slow 
 Athwart the darkened sky ; fire-torrents broke 
 From his deep-caverned eyes and wrapped him like 
 a cloak. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Now Siegfried's nostril quivered, and his breath 
 Came chokingly, but he with steadfast gaze 
 
 Defiant looked upon that swooping death ; 
 His back against the rocky wall he stays, 
 His good shield lifts against the blinding blaze, 
 
 His long spear plants ; the dragon's hovering pause 
 With torturing malice he long time delays, 
 Until with sudden swoop the sharp crook'd claws 
 
 Clutch round the prince and flame him blinds from 
 gaping jaws. 
 
62 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 In giddy circle through the blasted air 
 The dragon rose with his unconquered prey ; 
 
 Then came a struggle fiercer than despair, 
 Till Siegfried's keen-edged blade a secret way 
 Beneath the jointed scales found ; in dismay 
 
 And pain the monster lashed his barbed tail 
 And roared that shepherds heard him far away 
 
 By folded flocks ; then through the hero's mail 
 
 His strong teeth crashed ; with pain the boy's flushed 
 cheek grew pale, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And he had well-nigh swooned for agony, 
 
 But that his strong heart rose in that fierce throe, 
 
 And in the dragon's throat so suddenly 
 
 He thrust his sword, he made a great vein flow 
 In the unarmoured flesh ; with gurgles low 
 
 The monster's teeth and claws relaxed their hold, 
 And for pure pain the noble prey let go ; 
 
 In many a dizzy turn the hero rolled 
 
 Through sinking air, till prone he struck upon the 
 
 mould, 
 
 xx. 
 
 And there bereft of consciousness he lay, 
 
 Like crushed lamb dropped from stricken eagle's 
 claw, 
 
 While the great wounded dragon in dismay 
 Flew to his stronghold, pouring from his jaw 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 63 
 
 Hot flaming blood, until the fissure raw 
 He staunched ; then forth he flew again with roar 
 
 Far-pealing, and his vast tail like a saw 
 All jagged cut the air ; his great vans tore 
 The clouds, as he above the lessening mountain bore. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Now Siegfried on the farther side was dropped 
 Of the dark torrent, swirling deep below, 
 
 And though awhile his great heart's pulses stopped 
 For lack of blood and fury of his blow, 
 Life's deep-laid current soon regained its flow 
 
 And he, awaking from his heavy swoon, 
 Saw linden boughs sway gently to and fro, 
 
 And round his limbs he felt the grateful boon 
 
 Of deep-piled moss, and all his powers he gathered 
 soon. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Yet would he fain have rested for a space, 
 
 Safe-hid in moss and fern, but that wild cry 
 Of maiden mewed in evil hiding place, 
 
 Pealed out again in deepening agony ; 
 
 Then leapt he to his feet, resolved to die 
 At least in succour of that helpless one, 
 
 And as he moved, he saw the monster, high 
 Outspread in air, enwreathed by vapour dun, 
 And felt exulting strength through all his pulses 
 
64 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 So scents the steed the battle from afar, 
 
 Shaking with joy his thunder-clothed mane ; 
 
 In fancy down the bloody ranks of war 
 He flashes, and he treads the pallid slain 
 With iron heel, as men the golden grain 
 
 For life's sustaining bruise ; with shrilling cry 
 He bounds exulting o'er the windy plain, 
 
 Nor recks he of the dreadful agony 
 
 Of screaming steed death -struck, so he in fight 
 may be. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Siegfried betook him to a deep-niched cleft, 
 
 By fire-throe ruptured in the living rock, 
 And scarce his gleaming blade in hand he heft 
 
 Ere the fierce dragon pounced with stunning 
 shock 
 
 Upon him, safe immured in granite block ; 
 And though the mountain shudders to its heart, 
 
 And the swayed trees their crests together knock, 
 Siegfried is scathless ; but the guardians swart 
 Of Niblung's golden hoard with bristling hair 
 upstart. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Dark clouds of smoke with fire commingled rolled 
 So thickly, Siegfried scanty breathing found, 
 
 Like warriors in a city's central hold, 
 When storming foes have scaled the ramparts 
 bound, 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 65 
 
 And the strong citadel with flame surround ; 
 But soon the baffled monster rose again 
 
 On mighty wheel and measured all the ground, 
 Like a skilled captain who would lay his train 
 Beneath a stone-walled town and raze it to the 
 plain. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then Siegfried's pulses leapt and forth he came, 
 
 Unsheltered in free air, with joyous cheer ; 
 Where his foot smote, away rolled eddying flame, 
 
 Like clouds that part in fire when morn leaps 
 cleaf 
 
 Above the dark hill-tops ; devoid of fear, 
 The hero saw with bright and steadfast eye 
 
 The fiery creature through the air-waves steer, 
 Its gleaming armour lit with varied dye, 
 And, like Thor's wielded bolt, shoot thundering 
 from the sky. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The prince's heart throbbed, yet he swerved not, 
 
 But met the monster with uplifted sword, 
 And, seeking carefully a jointed spot 
 
 In th' armoured trunk, straight towards the vitals 
 
 bored ; 
 
 A blinding flood about the smiter poured, 
 And the hurt monster with spasmodic clutch 
 E 
 
66 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 The boy tight gripped and through his cuisses 
 
 gored 
 
 And left him, but, before a second touch, 
 Siegfried his shelter reached and breathed, rejoicing 
 
 much. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Then frenzied fury seized that dragon fierce, 
 
 And on the rock he beat with frantic blows 
 Wings, tail, and body ; but he could not pierce 
 
 Where Siegfried housed; so, under soft-piled 
 snows 
 
 Unfrosted, some fair plant whose life stream flows 
 Towards the spring, resists the icy blast 
 
 That overhead in whirling tempest goes ; 
 He stood, as he in sculptor's mould were cast, 
 To smite with all his strength one furious blow and 
 last. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Then the swart watchers trembled far within, 
 
 Feeling the quivers of the pillared mine, 
 They feared the mountain's falling in the din 
 
 And rooting up, like tempest-smitten pine ; 
 
 So, whispering together, they combine 
 To bear the treasure forth before the crash 
 
 Their blood should mingle with the jewels' shine; 
 The heavy ore upon their backs they lash, 
 Thus, in day's dying beam, red gold and diamonds 
 flash. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 67 
 
 xxx. 
 
 But Siegfried, all unwitting their dismay, 
 
 Stood gathered for his fierce and final blow, 
 And smote at last so true and sure, its way 
 
 His steel found to the vitals of his foe; 
 
 Fierce writhed the dragon in his dying throe, 
 And stiffened all along the mountain side, 
 
 And from his corse a fiery overflow 
 Of hissing blood poured out in mighty tide, 
 Most like the flaming wave that threads Hells 
 champain wide. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Then Siegfried rested in the ruddy glow 
 
 Of eve, forspent and wounded by the fight ; 
 In thankful joy he marked the overthrow 
 
 Of the huge beast and marvelled at his might ; 
 
 Thus, stayed upon his sword, his features bright 
 And shining hair all marred with blood and smoke, 
 
 In prayer lost, a swiftly kindling light 
 Like tropic sea-dawn o'er his visage broke, 
 When he the lady saw, unprisoned by his stroke. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Who was that lady ? and what evil spell, 
 
 By what enchantments forged, upon her lay ? 
 
 What anguish tore her heart, in what dim cell ? 
 Of what dark tyranny was she the prey ? 
 
68 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 What to the prince did that sweet lady say, 
 Smiling before him in the sunset glow ? 
 
 And whither wandered she at shut of day ? 
 Bring back lost bloom of forty years ago, 
 But this from Hagen's lips let no man hope to know. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Now, when that lady left him, in the tide 
 
 Of hissing blood he plunged, of raiment spoiled; 
 
 Thus he endued himself on every side 
 
 With viewless armour, as about him coiled 
 The hot wave in the dragon's fierce heart boiled ; 
 
 Thence issued he, as carved in marble white, 
 All wounds healed, and as he had never toiled, 
 
 Of loftier stature and of greater might, 
 
 Unwoundable, and clothed in beauty manlier bright. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 But ere the bath, a fluttering lime-leaf fell 
 Between his mighty shoulders, so that spot 
 
 Escaped the sheathing. Now the unseen shell 
 So strong was that the steel is forged not, 
 The beast unborn, unkindled yet the hot 
 
 Flame's breath of power to pierce it. Raiment 
 
 brought 
 The courtly dwarfs, bright-hued and fair, and got 
 
 Him armour, rich and curiously wrought 
 
 In the deep underworld by sun or star unsought. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 69 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 And all the treasure of the Niblung hoard, 
 
 Rich-hearted ruby, sardius, sapphire blue, 
 Silver and burning gold, long darkly stored, 
 
 They piled in glowing heaps before his view ; 
 
 There flashed the diamond's drop of fiery dew, 
 The emerald's flame, the beryl's sea-tinged light, 
 
 The opal's sweet and ever-changing hue, 
 The moon-rayed pearl; they made the gloaming 
 
 bright, 
 Siegfried, beholding them, saw not the gathering 
 
 night. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 But gazed with dim, fixed glance, as one by power 
 
 Of glamour held. The sun was two hours gone, 
 Dead from the west fell day's last paling flower, 
 
 Earth gloomed, woods drowsed, Heav'n's purple 
 plains were strown 
 
 With dewy stars, a young moon paced alone, 
 With virginal calm glance, the orient height, 
 
 The hushed flood murmured low, a misty zone 
 Lay curling round the mountain, ghostly white, 
 When Siegfried saw an army moving through the 
 
 night. 
 
 xxxvi i. 
 
 They moved with noiseless footfall down the glen, 
 The still air fluttered not their banners bright ; 
 
 Prince Siegfried marvelled, were they living men, 
 Or phantoms woven of the moonbeams white ? 
 
70 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 Up rose the dwarfs, all trembling at the sight, 
 Crying, " Niblung and Schilbung's hosts behold ! " 
 
 Then in night's shadows raged a deadly fight, 
 And when the fresh dawn kissed the mountain cold 
 She touched a crownless king and conquered host 
 with gold. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Thus Siegfried won the realm and golden store 
 Of Niblung ; many noble deeds beside 
 
 He wrought, remembered well in minstrel lore ; 
 The cloak of darkness, that from sight could hold 
 Who wore it, he could all securely glide 
 
 Through throngs of armed foes in summer noon, 
 From the dwarf Alberich he tore, and, dyed 
 
 In darkness, things he wrought beneath the moon, 
 
 Whence glorious fame he reaped that will not 
 moulder soon. 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 This Hagen briefly told in quick rough speech, 
 With rapid glances from his burning eyes. 
 
 Then mused the kings if it were churlish breach 
 Of courtesy to close their gates ; but wise 
 Was Hagen, and they feared him. " I advise," 
 
 He said, half scornful, " this strong Dragon-slayer 
 To welcome friendly, lest he wrathful rise 
 
 And crush us ! n So they spake the stranger fair, 
 
 Who crossed their sill and cast a splendour on the 
 air. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 71 
 
 XL. 
 
 He crossed their sill, and Gunther's soul was drawn 
 In yearning to the kingly stranger's soul, 
 
 Each looked at each, and then began the dawn 
 Of their strong friendship, that such joy and dole 
 Should bring, for clear as on illumined scroll 
 
 Each in the other's eyes saw " brother " writ. 
 The youthful kings and all the glittering shoal 
 
 Of courtiers to the guest did honour fit, 
 
 And thus for weal and woe his fate with theirs was 
 knit. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Now as the splendid following glanced across 
 The threshold, from a narrow lattice-pane 
 
 Looked Chriemhild in the court ; a blood-red floss 
 Of broiding silk she chose, singing a strain 
 Of careless song, but a swift sudden stain 
 
 Of crimson touched her fair cheeks' tender bloom, 
 When she beheld in strange and subtle pain 
 
 Siegfried, with visor raised and floating plume, 
 
 All sheathed in burnished mail, above his warmen 
 loom. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 She dropped her crimson floss, she stopped her song, 
 She gazed with parted lip and startled eye, 
 
 She gazed upon the dreadless hero long, 
 She marked his gentle speech, his bearing high, 
 
72 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 His kindly looks, his lofty courtesy ; 
 And while she gazed a gently pulsing bliss 
 
 Stole through her, till she breathed a long, long 
 
 sigh, 
 
 Then turned, half fearing she had done amiss, 
 To Uta, whispering low, " Sweet mother, who is 
 this?" 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Then Siegfried many days at Worms abode, 
 Welcomed as would befit a puissant king. 
 
 At times through balmy greenwood glades they rode, 
 Glades flooded with the music of the spring, 
 And there the fleet-foot stag to bay would bring. 
 
 At night in hall great deeds of hoary eld 
 
 And lays of love impassioned minstrels sing ; 
 
 All passing hours the friends' hearts closer weld, 
 
 But from the hero's eyes Chriemhild is ever held. 
 
 XLIV. 
 Days grow to weeks, weeks months, but never yet 
 
 Hath Siegfried breathed aloud his lady's name, 
 Hath Siegfried longing, loyal glances set 
 
 Upon the beauty whose far-rumoured fame 
 
 Fired his strong soul with such enduring flame ; 
 But from her secret bower the maiden gazed 
 
 With stolen glance when knights for martial game 
 Were met in lists below ; and when they praised 
 The stranger's skill her eyes with dewy lustre blazed. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 73 
 
 XLV. 
 
 No longer now dim tales from far-off days 
 
 Of fair deeds shining through the mists of time, 
 
 Her young companions' sweet and joyous lays, 
 Not her well-sounded cithern's tuneful chime, 
 Or garden, blooming bright in summer prime, 
 
 Much pleased her ; oft at eve she mused apart, 
 Or watched pale, pensive stars from hill-tops climb, 
 
 Oft at her broiding frame from dreams would start, 
 
 And blush, oft speak of things far distant from her 
 heart. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Now Uta marked the change with secret joy, 
 
 Pale Uta, mother sage and widowed queen, 
 Yet to her gentle child wrought no annoy 
 
 By words, but made as if she had not seen ; 
 
 Often she spake of Siegfried, when serene, 
 Still hours she passed with Chriemhild and the kings; 
 
 Then Gunther praised with the impassioned mien 
 Of friendship's youth his deeds and wanderings ; 
 But Chriemhild silent heard as musing other things. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 With seemly rivalry of noble love 
 
 King Gunther straitly scanned his goodly friend ; 
 
 He marked his grace and courtliness, and strove 
 To grasp his high ideal and amend 
 His own by that, and all false seeming rend 
 
74 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 From all within and all around ; yet thought 
 Never to equal him, but strength to spend 
 In manly striving. So his soul was caught 
 In friendship's mighty bands, and so to high things 
 
 wrought. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 And Siegfried's heart to all the brothers clave, 
 But most to Gunther. Soon the clang of arms 
 
 Rang from the east, where league-long forests wave ; 
 Such sound as warrior's eager spirit warms, 
 Presaging peril and the glorious harms 
 
 Of foughten field. It fell upon a day 
 When the young year was dressed in sweetest 
 charms, 
 
 The three Burgundian sovereigns went their way, 
 
 Heading a goodly host in war's superb array. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The best and bravest of their men they chose 
 To try their cause in battle's desperate chance, 
 
 And Siegfried they besought to make their foes 
 His own, and with his sword their cause advance, 
 So, watched by maidens' stolen, shamefast glance, 
 
 As Gunther's man, by serving doubly great, 
 
 He went. Where swift sword-lightnings fiercest 
 dance, 
 
 Waved Siegfried's plume, and oft he turned the fate 
 
 Of nicely balanced war by his sole sword-point's 
 weight. 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 75 
 
 L. 
 
 Beneath the Saxon mountains dwelt the foe, 
 
 King Lintger ; and, to humble Burgundy, 
 Lintgast of Denmark he had called from snow 
 
 And ice, beyond the ever-troubled sea ; 
 
 So these two kings against the brothers three 
 Waged war. But, even to his furthest hold, 
 
 For many days was Lintger made to flee, 
 And Siegfried captured Lintgast, him with gold 
 He chained, but set him free for goodly ransom told. 
 
 LI. 
 
 And many noble deeds of arms were done 
 
 On both sides in this war ; the two boy-kings, 
 
 Gunther's young brothers, maiden honour won ; 
 But Siegfried's glory floated on the wings 
 Of rumour to the four winds' hidden springs ; 
 
 And when to Worms his deeds 5 renown was blown, 
 So strangely sudden joy a maid's heart -wrings, 
 
 Sweet Chriemhild's eyes with happy tear-drops 
 shone, 
 
 And to her bower she fled and mused apart alone. 
 
 LII. 
 Twelve moons had gleamed and gloomed since 
 
 Siegfried left 
 
 His home at Santen ; now the springing year 
 Again blushed maid-like, and with touches deft 
 The meadows broidered, made the heaven clear, 
 
76 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 And filled the woods with music. Then drew near 
 The Whitsun feast, the feast of flower and song ; 
 
 At Worms the home-come victors made great 
 
 cheer 
 
 With joust and revel, lasting twelve days long ; 
 Thither from near and far flocked in a motley throng. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 How glorious broke the dawn of that fair day 
 
 When first Prince Siegfried met his lady's eyes, 
 That Whitsun morn ! The Niblungs' stern array 
 
 Around the court was ranged at still sunrise ; 
 
 Before the kings the trumpets' stirring cries 
 Rang boldly, chamberlains in cloth of gold 
 
 Flashed forth in glowing file, as if the skies 
 Had burst and all their glory earthward rolled ; 
 Then followed high-born maids of beauty's sweetest 
 mould. 
 
 Liv. 
 
 Last came the queen, and, leaning on her arm, 
 The princess, star-like in her loveliness, 
 
 Her rich attire unmarked beside the charm 
 Of her sweet beauty ; bright her flowing tress 
 As Niblung gold, but earthward did she press 
 
 Her looks, like one in stilly convent cell 
 Who museth lone ; yet, once beneath the stress 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 77 
 
 Of Siegfried's glance she raised them, and the spell 
 Of deep undying love on those young spirits fell. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Then sudden red lit Chriemhild's gentle face, 
 But Siegfried's darkened in a heavy cloud ; 
 
 For when he marked the lady's lofty grace 
 
 His heart sank low, his soul in homage bowed, 
 As doubts and fears surged up in thickening 
 crowd. 
 
 " How should I win thee, oh thou loveliest ? " 
 He inly sighed, yet he was passing proud 
 
 That his long look one glance from her could wrest, 
 
 And sweetest, strongest hopes swept through his 
 troubled breast. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Then to the minster, over dewy grass, 
 
 Beneath boughs fragrant with the breath of spring, 
 All fared, in order due, to hear the mass. 
 
 Oh, holy place ! where peasant, peer, and king, 
 
 Maid, wife, and child bow equal ; where, on wing 
 Of heaven-storming prayer, together rise 
 
 So many hearts the strong, the suffering, 
 Dizzy with joy or over-bowed by woes, 
 With souls that safe in bliss of Paradise repose ! 
 
78 SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 LVII. 
 There Siegfried prayed for Chriemhild, she for him, 
 
 Their souls upborne upon the surge of song, 
 That flooded nave and aisle and chapel dim 
 
 With thankful praise the echoing vaults prolong 
 
 To Him who wrought deliverance from wrong; 
 Loud prayed the priest ; fair children, snowy-stoled, 
 
 With looks celestial, for the kneeling throng 
 Swung jewelled censers chained with beamy gold, 
 Whence clouds of heavenly balm around the altar 
 rolled. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 And when the holy rites were fully done, 
 
 And on the people's souls lay peace divine, 
 Once more the bright procession in the sun 
 
 Ranged round the castle-yard in ordered line. 
 
 Then Gunther, with the old time's breeding fine, 
 Prince Siegfried led before the royal maid 
 
 For guerdon ; lowly did the prince incline 
 To her, but spake no word till Chriemhild paid 
 Him sweet and gracious thanks for his most timely 
 aid. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Then, looking up, he saw her standing there, 
 Enringed by sworded warrior, jewelled dame, 
 
 And high-born damsel, so beyond compare 
 The fairest, purest, princeliest, that shame 
 
SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 79 
 
 Fell on him, and his lips to shape her name 
 Were fearful ; but her sweet and steadfast glance 
 
 Met his and fired in each a deathless flame. 
 Then said he, " Lady Chriemhild, what the chance 
 Of battle gave is yours ; for you I lifted lance." 
 
 LX. 
 
 The lady smiled, and even as the beam 
 Of earliest morn the dark sea ruby dyes, 
 
 With gradual touch on wood and shadowed stream, 
 And round snow-peaks in awful splendour lies 
 Till the last shadow leaves the lucid skies 
 
 And full life breathes through all the wakened earth ; 
 So the soft lustre of her lips and eyes 
 
 The hero touched his pulses leapt with mirth, 
 
 His kindling features glowed with sense of life's 
 new worth. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 " And must I leave thee ? liever were I laid 
 
 In loveless tomb, from sun and starshine hid." 
 So S iegfried to his heart in silence said. 
 
 Then heralds to the lists the warriors bid ; 
 
 Like sunbeams in a wood, he glanced and slid 
 Among the heroes all around him whirled 
 
 Slit scarves and broken weapons. What he did 
 Chriemhild, with throbbing heart and lips upcurled, 
 In wonder saw, and tears of pride her eyelids 
 pearled. 
 
8o SIEGFRIED'S GLORY 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Twelve days the revels lasted. All that time 
 The prince in Chriemhild's sight with bliss abode : 
 
 Now first he felt all things harmonious chime 
 Within him ; but the hours so swiftly strode 
 The feast was done, the guests upon their road 
 
 Set forth, and sadly he to start prepared : 
 Then Gunther prayed him, by the thanks they 
 owed, 
 
 To stay. Thus longer time their roof he shared, 
 
 But still as yet no word of winning Chriemhild 
 dared. 
 
LAY THE THIRD 
 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
III. 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 T7' NOW ye the land, not set in any sea 
 
 Of mariner sailed with sail of mortal loom, 
 Where glows not fruit of any earth-grown tree, 
 Where, stealing soul and sense, pale flowers 
 bloom ? 
 
 Know ye that land, so strange, so dim, so far, 
 Not found on any chart by mortal limned, 
 
 Not shone upon by sun or dewy star, 
 
 But lit with lustre night hath never dimmed ? 
 
 There spread waste tracts by mortal foot untrod, 
 Where fitful lightnings dart in arrowy gleams, 
 
 Where vague, weird figures brush the dewless sod, 
 And voices pass unbodied as in dreams. 
 
 There jewelled palaces, by hands unwrought, 
 Lift airy pinnacles from craggy heights, 
 
 Rocks cleave and lighted halls appear unsought, 
 Full of sweet song and perfume and delights. 
 
84 PRELUDE 
 
 There rivers murmur low through blossomed meads, 
 And whoso sips their wave is lost to pain ; 
 
 Weird tales are whispered by the bending reeds, 
 That whoso hears is bound in magic's chain. 
 
 There are long galleries, that wind and wind, 
 Like serpents, in a dark and endless maze 
 
 Through spacious temples, where strong gods, 
 
 reclined 
 In joy, loom dimly through an incense haze. 
 
 And there are gardens, scented, blissful, bright, 
 Dusk tangled forests, where trees speak and bleed, 
 
 Where wanders many a mailed, immortal knight 
 With damsel fair from dark enchantment freed. 
 
 Set sail and grasp the tiller firm, and far, 
 
 Through tideless, stormless seas, that marvellous 
 land, 
 
 Unhelped by compass, chart, or pilot star, 
 Seek, till the swift keel smite the waveless strand ! 
 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 85 
 LA Y THE THIRD 
 
 Ube Winning of Brunbilfc 
 
 HP HERE dwelt a queen beyond the northern seas, 
 A maiden queen and fair, Brunhilda hight. 
 
 Full many a goodly warrior sought to please 
 That lady ; but alone by mortal fight 
 With her could any win the guerdon bright 
 
 Of her surpassing beauty ; mortal man 
 
 Not yet prevailed against her charmed might ; 
 
 And whom she worsted lost his head, and wan 
 
 In death lay ; thus her dread through all the wide 
 world ran. 
 
 II. 
 King Gunther heard her fame beside the Rhine, 
 
 (4'f Brunhild heard at Worms, his city old ; 
 And straight to win that lady did he pine ; 
 
 Her glorious beauty and her strength men told, 
 
 Her gifts, her form of more than queenly mould, 
 But chiefly of the all-compelling charm 
 
 Of peril, that her beauty fenced with fold 
 Impregnable and fraught with glorious harm, 
 That thrills the warrior's soul with rapture wild 
 and warm. 
 
86 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 III. 
 
 And oft in converse with the Dragon-slayer, 
 
 His tried and trusted friend, who now abode 
 At Worms for love of Chriemhild, his despair 
 
 And passioned longing for Brunhild he shewed ; 
 
 But Siegfried bid him win her, over-rode 
 His doubts, and offered help in the emprise, 
 
 For guerdon asking Chriemhild's hand bestowed ; 
 And, this being granted, he, in travel wise, 
 Gave counsel how to make the quest in fitting guise. 
 
 IV. 
 
 No armoured host would he, but warriors twain, 
 Hagen and Dankwart. Many nights and days 
 
 Gold-tressed Chriemhild and her maiden train 
 Consumed in shaping raiment meet to blaze 
 In splendour. Silk-stuffs from the sandy ways 
 
 Of Araby, pure flax, green silk from lands 
 
 More distant, wool and spoil of flocks that graze 
 
 Hoar ocean's opal meads and pearly sands, 
 
 She took and fashioned fair with deftly twinkling 
 hands. 
 
 v. 
 
 Twelve suits of goodly raiment thus they made, 
 For each man three. And then at last it fell 
 
 On a sweet summer morn when sunbeams played 
 On blossoming vine, bright rose, and lily-bell, 
 Tipped barren peak and slipped to leafy dell, 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 87 
 
 Upon the broad blue bosom of the Rhine 
 
 The warriors sailed. To speed them with farewell 
 Queen Uta and the princess did incline, 
 Waiting with page and squire by sunny slopes of 
 vine. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The warriors seaward sailed their tiny bark ; 
 
 Siegfried the rudder held with practised hand, 
 Gunther the oars, and Hagen's visage dark 
 
 Above his baldric gloomed, when, from the land 
 
 He pushed the boat ; but Dankwart took his stand 
 Hard by the slender mast to hoist the sail ; 
 
 Long, long the ladies lingered on the strand, 
 Watching the vessel dwindle to a pale 
 Dim speck and slip within the massed air's azure 
 veil, 
 
 VII. 
 
 Ad own the pleasant Rhine the wanderers sailed, 
 Where vine-bloom charmed the soft and delicate 
 air, 
 
 Where cot and hamlet smiled, by woods half-veiled, 
 Where children played, and maidens young and fair 
 Sang spinning, shadowed from the summer glare ; 
 
 And here on lofty crags strong towers frowned, 
 And here a convent smiled at earthly care, 
 
 Striving to shut sin from its narrow bound, 
 
 Whence life's beat wave fell back with dull and 
 hollow sound. 
 
88 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So fared they till, with many a yawning mouth, 
 Old Rhine reluctant crawled through weedy slime, 
 
 Bringing his tribute from the gentle south ; 
 There the green sea reared wide a crest sublime, 
 Lulling the mariners with wave-rung chime ; 
 
 Then Troneck Hagen turned his fiery gaze 
 
 On Siegfried, and would know how long a time 
 
 And through what perilous and secret ways 
 
 Their bark must sail to suit the weird witch-maiden's 
 craze. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The bright-faced hero smiled, and said : " The ways 
 
 To me are known, brave Hagen." Then he steered 
 Northwest, well scanned by Hagen's burning gaze. 
 
 Twelve days and nights the ship's course never 
 veered, 
 
 But on they flew, and oft the long day cheered 
 With song and tale of old, heroic deeds, 
 
 Of ocean's secret lore, of creatures weird 
 Who draw charmed seamen to the silent meads 
 Below, and wreathe pale brows with dank and 
 
 dripping weeds ; 
 
 x. 
 
 Of still, bright palaces of burning gems 
 Beneath the heaving azure's shining floor, 
 
 Of shattered masts and tempest-broken stems, 
 Of treasure wrecked, deep-hid in caverns hoar, 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 89 
 
 Of silent mariners who may roam no more, 
 Of fairy isles that dream on halcyon wave, 
 And great fleets crushed upon a viewless shore, 
 Of maidens, singing wild, sweet song that lave 
 Their limbs in foam, they sang, while on the vessel 
 
 drave. 
 
 XI. 
 
 But Siegfried inly mused on her who first 
 Woke the deep echoes from his silent soul, 
 
 His quest, his waiting, and his year-long thirst 
 For sight of her, on that first look he stole 
 That Whitsun morn, when from the brilliant shoal 
 
 Of squire and dame she shone and smiled to him ; 
 Him seemed once more he saw the gay lists roll, 
 
 When Chriemhild thanked him and the sky waxed 
 dim, 
 
 And he his service vowed to her of life and limb. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Him seemed the monsters of the deep grew mild 
 When he of Chriemhild mused ; her loveliness 
 
 The sea of storm, the night of dark, beguiled ; 
 Often he deemed the sheen of her bright tress 
 Illumed the wave beneath the keel's impress, 
 
 When through the night they sped on billowed fire ; 
 The sparkling stars seemed jewels on her dress, 
 
 Her voice sang in the south wind's murmurous lyre, 
 
 Her breath embalmed sweet airs that fairy isles 
 suspire. 
 
90 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 XIII. 
 
 And when the twelfth sun leapt from Orient cave, 
 
 They sailed upon a sea of rosy fire, 
 Beholding, doubled in the burning wave, 
 
 A vast and glittering pile, with many a spire 
 
 Of marble emerald green in soaring gyre, 
 The embattled walls linked round by towers 
 fourscore ; 
 
 So fair a pile might Orpheus' golden lyre 
 In music's passion heave from magic shore, 
 So fair a pile man's art had never raised before. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 To Gunther, gliding from the heavy dark 
 
 Before the dawn, these things a vision seem ; 
 And when the rose-light deepened on the bark, 
 Till rigging, spar, and sail in crimson gleam 
 Were steeped, "My brother, what a wondrous 
 
 dream 
 Is this!" he cried. To whom the prince, "These 
 
 things 
 
 Are tangible and true, not as you deem ; 
 For this is Isenstein, fair home of kings, 
 That on the still wave broods, like bird with folded 
 wings." 
 
 XV. 
 
 Then the light strengthened and the wanderers 
 
 gazed 
 On clear-cut pinnacle and tower tall ; 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 91 
 
 But Siegfried this brave show no whit amazed, 
 And, inly smiling, as they marvelled all, 
 He showed the vast sweep of the outer wall, 
 
 The cunning workmanship of roof and spire, 
 The bastions 7 strength, the spacious inmost hall, 
 
 The palaces, aglow with emerald fire, 
 
 The carven splendours wrought to still some god's 
 desire. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 They gazed like dreamers bound in magic spell, 
 
 With hands uplift towards the aerial blaze, 
 While deeper glories on the towers fell 
 
 And bright sun swept away the purple haze ; 
 
 And now they traced the turrets' wildering maze 
 And marked the vast hall in the central fold, 
 
 Now in the paling of the sun's new rays 
 The sea of crimson fire was turned to gold, 
 Within whose molten wave the imaged towers were 
 rolled. 
 
 XVII. 
 From a high oriel, opening on the sea, 
 
 Fair ladies glanced through narrow lattice pane, 
 And Gunther marked one, gazing loftily, 
 
 The fairest and the tallest of the train ; 
 
 Her robe the swan's plume mocked, of silken grain 
 So purely white, her neck, like that of swan, 
 
 Arched proudly, beauty-conscious, did she strain 
 To see the advancing bark ; then waxed she wan, 
 Beholding it, and asked, " Whence comes that 
 bright-faced man ? " 
 
92 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And Gunther asked of Siegfried, " Who is she, 
 That lofty lady in the snowy stole ? " 
 
 And the world-wandered prince, scanned curiously 
 By Hagen, said, " Brunhild, who makes such dole 
 For heroes." Then King Gunther's inmost soul 
 
 Rejoiced. And now their keel screamed up the 
 
 strand, 
 The windless sail flapped idly from the pole, 
 
 With Gunther's steed Prince Siegfried leapt to 
 land, 
 
 And there as vassal stood, the stirrup in his hand. 
 
 XIX. 
 Now whom she asked, to Queen Brunhild replied, 
 
 "Lady, I know him not, a hero's mould 
 Is his; though he as vassal stands beside 
 
 A man of lesser thews, helm-bound with gold, 
 
 The bright-faced man a greater chief I hold, 
 Such majesty is on his lucid brow, 
 
 Such grace and dignity his form enfold; 
 It ill-befits that kingly head to bow 
 To mortal man ; some prince is he, disguised by vow. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Two warriors stand beside them, richly clad, 
 Their arms are wondrous rich and all their gear, 
 
 The younger hero hath a visage glad., 
 Lightly he sits his steed and holds his spear; 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 93 
 
 Methinks the fourth was never touched by fear, 
 How swiftly run his glances to and fro ! 
 
 A mighty man, dark-browed, and waxing sere 
 Of life ; Heaven send me not his like as foe ! " 
 So spake he, while the queen glanced, troubled- 
 flushed, below. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Long, long she gazed on Hagen. "As a friend 
 That dark-browed man were worth a thousand 
 more," 
 
 She mused, then bade her men the guests attend. 
 Silk stuff and gold wrought tissue, maidens bore 
 From cedarn presses to the queen, with store 
 
 Of gems from stout oak coffers bound in steel ; 
 A kingdom's wealth upon her breast she wore, 
 
 And round her waist the girdle that should seal 
 
 The doom of Gunther's race and Siegfried's earthly 
 weal. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Thus, in attire that flashed like many suns 
 But richlier still arrayed in beauty's light, 
 
 The strong queen came below. Around her runs 
 A quick-hushed murmur, for, so bravely dight 
 Is Brunhild rarely in her people's sight ; 
 
 With regal mien she paced the pillared hall 
 
 To greet the sea-borne guests ; her princely height, 
 
 Her beauty's splendour and her strength appal 
 
 The wanderers, till their looks, all dazzled, down- 
 wards fall. 
 
94 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 XXIII. 
 But Siegfried unabashed the war-maid's eye 
 
 Encountered, and, advancing, her addressed ; 
 Then she, "Who may these warriors be? and why, 
 Lord Siegfried, come they?" Then the prince, 
 
 her hest 
 
 Obeying, smiled, and briefly said, " To test 
 His sword comes Gunther, and your hand to win ; 
 
 He is a king and I his man ; the best 
 Of all his heroes, near to him of kin, 
 Is Hagen, Dankwart next. When shall the fight 
 begin?" 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As in a summer wood the stately trees 
 Stand silently in golden glamour bound, 
 
 But, at the wakening of a little breeze, 
 
 Their leaves lift and a whisper circles round 
 From tree to tree, so went a gentle sound 
 
 Of laughter round the queen from maid to maid 
 Grouped near her. Then Brunhilda, " On the 
 ground 
 
 Where I shall fight, the bleaching bones are laid 
 
 Of many a warrior strong with shattered casque 
 
 and blade. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 " Methinks the prowess of the Dragon-slayer 
 Himself were hardly tried in single fight 
 
 With me ! Let him betake himself to prayer 
 And look his farewell on the blessed light 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 95 
 
 Who dares assail my never-conquered might, 
 For that bold man must win or death or me. 
 
 Lord Siegfried, warn your master, lest the bite 
 Of fanged remorse your heart tear endlessly, 
 Well know you what to war with maiden strength 
 may be." 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then angry lightning shot from Siegfried's eye, 
 Whereat the strong queen trembled and her hue 
 
 Waxed fainter ; but the prince made calm reply 
 Sweet-voiced. "King Gunther knows the forfeit due 
 To vanquished knight ; the fleshless bones that 
 strew 
 
 The plain affright him not. Say, fairest queen, 
 When shall the fight begin, that we may view 
 
 As noble combat as the world hath seen ? " 
 
 Then Gunther spake, whom Brunhild scanned with 
 scornful mien. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 So for the strife at once the swan-necked maid 
 
 Gave order, and to arm herself withdrew. 
 King Gunther took his spear, his limbs arrayed 
 
 In armour, girt his sword of temper true ; 
 
 Siegfried the mystic robe of sightless hue 
 Threw on, and Balmung, his renowned brand, 
 
 Unseen beneath his veil of darkness drew ; 
 Then, on a space of seaward-fronting land, 
 Outside the emerald walls the warriors took their 
 stand. 
 
96 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 How glorious the martial maid appeared 
 
 In helme'd splendour, when the appointed ground 
 Impatiently she trod. Even Hagen feared 
 For Gunther, when her limbs in armour bound 
 He saw, and marked the charmed hair floating 
 
 round 
 
 Her supple form, and marked the cool disdain 
 That shaped her firm lip's curve and mute speech 
 
 found 
 
 In her far-flashing eye, the lovely bane 
 Of many a stalwart knight stretched stiff along the 
 plain. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But deeper waxed his dread when three tall men 
 A spear three-edged, long-hafted, staggering bore; 
 
 This Brunhild caught and lightly poised, as when 
 Some careful housewife seeks her garnered store 
 And shakes an unthreshed stalk of barley hoar ; 
 
 In wrath he slipped and haste to Gunther's side 
 And muttered, " Let us leave this cursed shore ; 
 
 This is the Devil's wife. If we abide 
 
 We are dead men." To whom the king, "All 
 knightly pride 
 
 XXX. 
 
 "Were put to shame if we this strife refused." 
 Then Hagen grasped his sword and swore to sell 
 
 Their lives at dearest. And the young king mused 
 In terror of the prize so fair and fell, 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 97 
 
 And thought how bards his timeless death would 
 
 tell 
 In after years a king by woman's might 
 
 Undone. But Siegfried, hid by mystic spell, 
 Drew near and whispered, " All the acts of fight 
 Seem thou to make while I do battle out of sight." 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Then Gunther viewed the maid with lightened cheer 
 And smiled when sweating men a huge shield 
 
 brought, 
 A mighty shield to match the mighty spear, 
 
 Full three spans thick, of gold and iron wrought ; 
 The princess lightly in her white hand caught 
 The massy shield, and, with a pard-like bound, 
 
 Leapt face to face with Gunther ; then she sought 
 Her aim and launched the spear. With rushing 
 
 sound 
 
 It split the air and smote a thousand sparkles round 
 \ 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 From the well-balanced shield and cleft it through, 
 
 That Siegfried staggered ; but he stood again, 
 Then from his mighty hand the king's spear flew, 
 
 While Gunther well-nigh swooned from the fierce 
 strain 
 
 Upon his hand ; it smote the shield amain 
 That fire sprang like a fountain from the gold 
 
 And the strong queen reeled o'er the heaving plain 
 
98 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 To earth, and in the dust her tresses rolled, 
 Loud clanged the massive shield, shot from her 
 palsied hold. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Up leapt the warrior maid with crimsoned brow 
 And flaming glance, and scornfully she spake, 
 "Receive my thanks, Knight Gunther, for the 
 
 blow ! " 
 Then twelve stout men in cords that well-nigh 
 
 brake 
 A stone brought, which the mountain elves to 
 
 make 
 A thousand years had sweat. This Brunhild heft 
 
 With ease, as matrons heave a baken cake 
 And turn it on the coals with touches deft, 
 Then hurled it, that it hissed as eddying airs it cleft ; 
 
 xxxiv. 
 And after it so many ells she sprang 
 
 It seemed to draw her in its rapid train, 
 Her flowing hair flashed and her armour rang 
 
 As she alighted far upon the plain ; 
 
 But the stone's falling all eyes sought in vain, 
 So far it was. Then Siegfried found the stone 
 
 And tossed it, like a fruit that long hath lain 
 Grass-hid, and launched it ; but it seemed alone 
 From Gunther's far-flung hand the massive rock 
 was thrown. 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 99 
 
 xxxv. 
 Yet Siegfried heaved it ; far above the queen 
 
 And far beyond in dizzy curve it flew ; 
 And Gunther, caught by Siegfried's arm unseen, 
 With mighty spring, as if a load-stone drew 
 Him after, flashed against the arching blue, 
 And lighted far beyond the great stone's cast. 
 
 This Brunhild saw, and waxen wan she grew 
 And marvelled. Then rose voices like a blast 
 In sudden storm at sea when snaps the sail-bent 
 mast. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 For never yet so strong and far a spring 
 In sight of man by woman-born was made ; 
 
 Men closed around the spot in narrowing ring, 
 Applauding, mindless of the heavy shade 
 Upon the fair queen's brow. Silent she stayed 
 
 Afar, most like a lovely statue raised 
 
 By art of man, with gold and steel inlaid, 
 
 1 i some great city square, where joy-fires blazed, 
 
 Bells clashed, men thronged, but she on all unheed- 
 ing gazed. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Now Hagen marked the spring, and every hair 
 Upon his flesh in bristling awe upreared. 
 
 Anon he asked himself in what fell snare 
 Of devilry he with his prince had steered ; 
 And while he mused, the Niblung prince appeared 
 
 In his own form, unclothed of magic vest, 
 
ioo THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD. 
 
 And sadly asked, as he some hindrance feared, 
 "Fair queen, when shall the fight begin?" Then 
 
 pressed 
 The vanquished maid in shame her white hands to 
 
 her breast. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " Come hither, noble knights and warriors all ; 
 
 Come hither, every man of mine/' she cried, 
 " The fight is lost and won ; King Gunther call 
 
 Your lord henceforth/' And all the crowd replied 
 
 With shouts. Then Gunther, flushed with joy and 
 
 pride, 
 Drew near, and, with a mute betrothal kiss, 
 
 Encircled with his arms the glorious bride ; 
 Then smiled the queen as nothing were amiss, 
 And in full-voiced acclaim thundered the people's 
 
 bliss. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then the Burgundians of home-going spake, 
 But Brunhild : "Where are all King Gunther's men 
 
 And ships, that he may fitly homeward take 
 
 His hardly-conquered queen?" Embarrassed then 
 Was Gunther, but the Niblung, swift of ken 
 
 And speech, replied : " The winds and stormy 
 
 waves 
 Delay our hosts no longer than till when 
 
 Day's king a third time in the ocean laves, 
 
 And, risen on new-yoked car, the sea with gold 
 flake paves." 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 101 
 
 XL. 
 
 So once more in his robe of mystery veiled 
 
 Aboard the anchored boat the Niblung leapt ; 
 And there the people saw, and, seeing, paled, 
 
 The ship from all her moorings suddenly swept ; 
 
 Then marked they how the sails in silence crept 
 About her masts, how, like a living thing, 
 
 Unsteered, unoared, by foot of man unstept, 
 She lifted in the breeze her snowy wing 
 And fled afar, till lost in evening's purple ring. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Now Siegfried through the night in darkness flew 
 
 And dawn, and gained the dim and distant land 
 Of Niflheim ; then his magic sail he drew 
 
 Close in, and silent trod the soundless strand. 
 
 Niblungs and dwarfs uprose at his command, 
 An army mustered and a gallant fleet ; 
 
 The swart dwarfs drew across the furrowed sand 
 Rich treasure from the hoard gold bracelets, meet 
 For beauty's arm, and gems whose hearts in fire- 
 dew beat, 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Rings with pure pearl and quivering diamond set, 
 Rich rubies darkly bright, celestial gleam 
 
 Of sapphires, stuffs where golden broidery met 
 So thick on shining silk that not the beam 
 
102 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 Of sun in dark rooms hath so dense a stream 
 Of lustrous motes ; these from the war-won store 
 
 The Dragon-slayer chose ; then through the cream 
 Of churning surf that edged the mystic shore 
 The vessels ploughed, and straight to Isenland they 
 bore. 
 
 XXLIII. 
 
 And, when the second dawning scattered pearl 
 
 And gold upon the blue sea's heaving floor, 
 They saw the night-mist break in filmy curl 
 
 From the green-gleaming towers upon the shore ; 
 
 Then Siegfried drew the coil of darkness o'er 
 His kingly brow and lightly leapt to land ; 
 
 First to the expectant queen tidings he bore 
 Of Cumber's fleet at anchor by the strand 
 And spoke of gifts and men, by Brunhild straitly 
 scanned. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 And when at last the richly-dowered bride 
 
 Weighed anchor, all her fleet was girdled round 
 
 By Niblung ships, gold-laden ; thus her pride 
 Was amply fed. Yet many a sigh profound 
 Broke from the royal maiden's bosom, bound 
 
 No more in steel but silk ; and oft alone 
 
 She sat and watched gay living things that wound 
 
 Through lucent waves, or saw the purple zone 
 
 Of heaven alight with stars like flowers on May- 
 meads blown. 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 103 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Now Chriemhild, safe at home in quiet bower, 
 Of those far-wandering warriors mused oft, 
 And oft in secret from her kingly tower 
 
 She gazed on glooming wood and bloom-starred 
 
 croft, 
 
 Adown the broad Rhine, till in mazes soft 
 Of azure air he slipped ; at morn she gazed, 
 
 While earth slept and one waning star aloft 
 Her lamp still swung, and when the pale moon 
 
 raised 
 Her pearly throne at eve and hill-tops rose-red 
 
 blazed. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Deeply she mused of perils on the seas 
 By storm, by night, strange beasts and magic 
 things 
 
 That cheat the mariner, chilly climes that freeze 
 His breath, of dreadful fish with scaly wings, 
 And torrid suns whose rays are serpent stings ; 
 
 Often in silence she for Siegfried prayed 
 And Gunther ; often with the youthful kings, 
 
 Her brothers, spake she of the glorious maid, 
 
 So dreadful though so fair, and of the scanty aid 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 The king had taken. Much the brothers feared 
 For Gunther ; only Uta, undismayed 
 
104 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 Of Siegfried's skill and strength spoke and his 
 
 weird 
 
 Unearthly armour, and she held his aid 
 Sufficient; so the gentle princess stayed 
 
 Her hope upon this faith. Once, ere the morn, 
 Out-gazing on the dim earth wrapped in shade, 
 
 She heard the lark up-spring from bending corn 
 
 In music, and afar, upon the dark wave borne, 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 In the gray dawning saw a snowy sail 
 
 Swift-speeding ; then her heart beat ; then before 
 The first rose reddened in the heaven pale, 
 
 The white wings folded by the unsunned shore 
 
 And she beheld the Dragon-slayer moor 
 His boat ; then straight her comely limbs she laid 
 
 Again upon her couch. The Niblung bore 
 Good tidings. So to greet the royal maid 
 They stirred and bower and hall in garlands gay 
 arrayed. 
 
 XLIX. 
 The beacons flamed, the vassals dwelling round 
 
 Sped to the sign, hot-spur, with foamy rein ; 
 And all upon the river-fronting ground 
 
 Stood ordered fair to greet the bridal train, 
 
 Bending, as bends a field of ripening grain 
 By soft airs touched, before that glorious bride 
 
 And groom. Then music wrought the tangled 
 skein 
 
THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 105 
 
 Of blisses manifold to one. Great pride 
 Moved Gunther, floating calm on honour's fullest 
 tide. 
 
 And ere that sun long time had passed the 
 noon, 
 
 King Gunther guerdoned for his timely aid 
 Prince Siegfried, eager for the promised boon, 
 
 And in the dreadless hero's arms he laid 
 
 The peerless-beautiful, the princely maid. 
 This, solemnly before the shining sun, 
 
 In sight of all the subject lords, arrayed 
 In state at Worms, with noble speech was done ; 
 There the first kiss, the kiss of troth, so strangely 
 won, 
 
 LI. 
 
 Was given ; nor recked they in the trembling 
 bliss 
 
 Of blended breath and meeting souls on lips 
 Still virgin, of a last, an anguished kiss, 
 
 Nor of warm hearts struck down in quick eclipse 
 
 Of death, nor of the fiercely-stinging whips 
 Of vengeance, nor of anything that harms ; 
 
 And, as at morn the roselight softly tips 
 The hill-top, then unfolds the valley's charms, 
 Slowly the princess flushed, close-clasped in happy 
 arms. 
 
io6 THE WINNING OF BRUNHILD 
 
 LII. 
 
 Then from the courtly host a shout arose 
 
 Like surges when the storm-blasts break their 
 
 lair; 
 
 For never nobler, loftier hero chose 
 Lady of lovelier face, or soul more fair, 
 And the warm cordial love the people bare 
 Her grace and courtesy of years had earned ; 
 
 Even the grim Hagen wore a gentler air 
 When on the twain his blazing glances burned, 
 But Brunhild from the sight with wrathful visage 
 turned. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 The war-maid turned, and in her lustrous eyes 
 Tears rose and trembled down her fair cheek's 
 
 bloom ; 
 This Gunther marked with conscience - stung 
 
 surprise, 
 And bent, as shame strove in his soul's strait 
 
 room 
 
 With fear, till on her drooped his helmet-plume, 
 Asking what sorrow touched his fairest queen. 
 
 " I weep/' she cried, " thy sister's lowly doom, 
 That thou shouldst give her to a man so mean, 
 Thy vassal, and her fate of all the world be seen ! " 
 
LAY THE FOURTH 
 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 /l&arriage 
 
 "\17HEN God man's lot on earth would chiefly 
 bless, 
 
 He bade him be, not one alone, but twain ; 
 To one most power, to one most loveliness, 
 
 Of soul and body, gave he, and with chain, 
 
 Silk-soft but strong as adamant, he bound 
 Their lives. Thus yearnings in man's spirit rise 
 
 To link his strength with sweetness, and to sound 
 The gentler soul that laughs from beauty's eyes 
 
 And all the rough-hewn edges of his might 
 To shape in polished shafts to firmly bear 
 
 The grace of arch and turret, springing light 
 Into the vast of heaven's azure air. 
 
 Nor vainly yearns he ; even as sunbeams, hidden 
 Long aeons past in buried groves of fern, 
 
 At touch of flame, from chill and darkness bidden, 
 In flame the sun's long-cherished rays return, 
 
no PRELUDE 
 
 Love wakes at touch of love ; the self-same strain 
 That strength to sweetness draws for perfectness, 
 
 Draws sweetness in the coil of power's chain ; 
 So lightning's opposite fires together press 
 
 For calm and safety ; fires that, held asunder, 
 Deal death and ruin in their ceaseless yearning, 
 
 Each calling each with roar of rolling thunder, 
 Each flashing unto each, all barriers spurning. 
 
 Love wedded is a home in life's bleak waste, 
 An ingle-nook of rest from care and toil, 
 
 Where human souls in holy calm are braced, 
 Refreshed, and held apart from earthly soil. 
 
 Thrice happy he in reverence due who holds 
 These mysteries ! upon his heaven-touched eyes, 
 
 Bright, through the clinging mist that earth enfolds, 
 Visions of heavenly espousals rise. 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS in 
 
 LAY THE FOURTH 
 
 Ube jfatal Gifts 
 
 "T^ WAS harvest time ; upon the sunny plain 
 
 The corn bent heavy to the reaper's hand, 
 Fruits, globed in russet, gold and purple stain, 
 Through dark leaves glowed ; strong arms by 
 
 August tanned 
 The cut sheaves caught and bound in straw-twist 
 
 band ; 
 The blood rose warmer through the clustered vine ; 
 
 Voices of mirth and labour filled the land 
 Day long and in the warm moon's mellow shine ; 
 Calmly by crag and croft flowed on the emerald 
 Rhine. 
 
 II. 
 
 And while the tiller gathered in his store 
 
 From teeming earth, the war-worn Dragon-slayer 
 
 The fruit of valour reaped. The river-shore 
 At Worms was thronged by motley crowds, the air 
 By mirth and music broken ; passing fair 
 
 The flower-dight city smiled, with arras quaint, 
 Pageant and masque, and armour bright and rare; 
 
H2 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 In the dim minster, rich with carven saint 
 And pictured angel calm, heaven's breath with 
 sweet was faint. 
 
 ill. 
 
 For now at last the bridal rites were done 
 That Chriemhild to her long- tried lover gave, 
 
 And wed King Gunther to the lady won 
 By occult power, the spoil of valour, brave 
 As beautiful. Until the dumb, dark grave, 
 
 That swallows all, and stills in dawnless night 
 Gay heart and tuneful tongue, crowned king and 
 knave, 
 
 Should yawn for him, each warrior troth did 
 plight 
 
 To either lady ; thence was joyaunce and delight. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Nor did the thought that he had subtly won 
 
 The charmed maiden Siegfried's soul oppress, 
 Nor any slight misgiving cloud the sun 
 
 That touched the zenith of his happiness ; 
 
 And, for he would all people in the stress 
 Of his deep joy might share, largesse he gave 
 
 And scattered gold like seed, as through the press 
 He passed ; men's voices swelled a thunder- wave, 
 Like roar of crashing seas that war in winding 
 cave. 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 113 
 
 v. 
 
 How beauteous was the bridal, homeward going, 
 How glowed the city in the torch-light glare ; 
 
 It seemed some shining sun, all overflowing 
 With glory, poured his light till he was bare 
 Of beams. The princely brides, apparelled fair, 
 
 With jewelled broidery that mocked the stars, 
 In beauty shone, but Chriemhild past compare ; 
 
 Her joy was meek as when at last unbars 
 
 Heaven's portal high to soul sore spent in sin's wild 
 wars. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Gaily before the bright and festal board 
 In hall the newly- wedded warriors sate, 
 
 Each lovely bride beside her blissful lord 
 
 Blushed flower-like how could agony or hate 
 Those radiant features mar, those eyes, elate 
 
 With softest fire ? Swiftly the evening fled 
 On wings of joy ; with minstrel's lay of fate, 
 
 Of love and lofty deeds, with airy tread 
 
 Of dancer, festal cup, the hours too swiftly sped. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Night darkened, deepened ; sounds of grief and 
 
 mirth 
 
 She hushed to peace within her balmy breast ; 
 Beneath her fragrant wing the wearied earth 
 Lay folded soft in deep and dreamy rest, 
 H 
 
114 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 No more in lighted hall the jewelled vest 
 Of reveller flashed or waved the dancer's plume, 
 The castle towers in dewy dark were dressed, 
 Sleep fed the thews of strength and beauty's 
 
 bloom, 
 
 While strange, bright-vestured dreams swept 
 through night's caverned gloom. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Star after star his squadroned host arrayed 
 
 Till every shining, silent watch was sped ; 
 Fair flower-cups filled with dew, and then o'er- 
 weighed 
 
 With bliss, each blossom bowed her dainty head; 
 
 Gray glimmered in the east, where stars fell dead, 
 Day's pallid heralds ; then, in primrose skies 
 
 Rose sweet Aurora, fresh from Tithon's bed, 
 All blushes ; in the light of her fair eyes, 
 Earth, ocean, air, and sky flushed red with joyed 
 surprise. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Men woke, the sons of sorrow or of sin, 
 The sceptred king, the babe a few days born ; 
 
 Youths rose to labour, maids to toil and spin ; 
 Rich men and beggars, widows newly lorn 
 And brides of yester-eve, that rose-breathed morn 
 
 From sleep's soft folding drew with tender touch, 
 And they arose to rapture or to scorn ; 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 115 
 
 Pale men awoke, just snatched from death's fell 
 
 clutch ; 
 
 Morn equal smiled on all, nor gave she one too 
 much, 
 
 x. 
 Or one too little. Ere her beamy car 
 
 Long way had climbed upon the sapphire road, 
 The castle gates swung wide and guests from far 
 Poured in. The barbed charger hotly trode 
 The lists ; long galleries with beauty glowed ; 
 Crowds gathered, all in festal raiment dight ; 
 
 Fair feasts were spread, red wine as water flowed, 
 Warm sunlight danced on plume and armour 
 
 bright, 
 
 Touched motley, purple vair, and cloth of silver 
 white. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Into the hall to greet the newly wed 
 
 Flocked princes and great lords, the brother 
 
 kings, 
 Gernot and Giselher, and she who read 
 
 The future's secret lore, Queen Uta. Things 
 
 Of price, arms richly wrought and jewelled rings, 
 They gave the brides ; Chriemhild the golden 
 hoard 
 
 Of Niblung, won in early wanderings 
 From the fire-breathing dragon by his sword, 
 Received as morning gift from her heroic lord. 
 
ii6 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 XII. 
 
 But who may paint the light of perfect gladness 
 Upon that lady's pure and princely brow, 
 
 The lofty peace, untouched by shade of sadness, 
 The modest tenderness, that until now 
 Had slumbered ? For at last she dared avow 
 
 Her glory in that peerless prince of men ; 
 With tears she thanked him, and she marvelled 
 how 
 
 So great a knight was hers ; and not till then 
 
 Did all life's meaning flash on Siegfried's raptured 
 ken. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 It was a joy to see that noble pair, 
 So blissful and so beautiful of mien, 
 
 Yet few could mark their outward grace, so rare 
 And clear a medium to the souls serene 
 And fair within, appeared their beauty's sheen ; 
 
 It seemed our dark and cumbrous veil of flesh, 
 Like radiant ether pure, itself unseen, 
 
 Disclosed them, unentangled by the mesh 
 
 Of frail mortality, in them so stainless fresh. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But near them gloomed the other princely pair, 
 Gunther and Brunhild. In the strong queen's eye 
 
 Blazed haughty daring, and her lofty air 
 No softening showed ; it seemed the marriage-tie 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 117 
 
 No meekness brought to her proud soul and high; 
 Most like a ruler gazed she on her lord 
 
 And marked with scorn a cloud upon him lie, 
 While he her eyes like some keen-piercing sword 
 Avoided, yet with gifts he heaped the fair bride's 
 
 board. 
 
 xv. 
 
 And little lightened Gunther's brow of gloom 
 
 When he was greeted on his marriage morn ; 
 It seemed some veil from darkly shadowed doom 
 
 Before his eyes by fateful hand was torn ; 
 
 The down-struck glance that comes of dreaded 
 
 scorn 
 Was his ; and to his friend ere day waxed old, 
 
 To Siegfried, " Woe the hour that I was born !" 
 He cried ; " No gentle bride of human mould 
 Is mine, but devil's wife, let loose from Hell's black 
 
 hold." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 He told that, when the twain were left alone, 
 Brunhild her lord by strength of arm o'ercame 
 
 And helpless bound for pastime in her zone ; 
 This with averted face he told, and shame 
 His features fired with bitter, burning flame. 
 
 But Siegfried bade him mend his cheer and he 
 Would aid in cloak invisible, that blame 
 
 Of weakness should not touch him ; wherefore free 
 
 From care King Gunther passed that day right 
 joyously. 
 
ii8 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But when again the pair alone were found, 
 
 Gunther his powers in sportive fight would try ; 
 Brunhild with scorn consented ; he who bound 
 
 The other, would through life have mastery ; 
 
 Then strove the twain, and Siegfried, standing by 
 Unseen, the strong queen pinioned fast ; then, 
 wrought 
 
 To fierce despair, she strove as she would die ; 
 But Siegfried held and bound her. Thence he 
 
 brought 
 Her girdle and her ring, of malice deeming nought. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Of malice deemed the dreadless warrior nought 
 But mirthful aid for friendship's gentle sake ; 
 
 He little recked the peril that is wrought 
 By foreign aid in marriage, or the snake 
 That through his well-meant friendliness should 
 break 
 
 From deadly coil upon them. For his friend 
 All lawful things would Siegfried undertake, 
 
 His dearest blood for him with gladness spend, 
 
 And all his glorious gifts with joy to aid him lend. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Ah, kingly Dragon-slayer, couldst thou not slay 
 
 Thy fault of sex, male arrogance, half scorn, 
 Half tenderness, that makes it fair to play 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 119 
 
 With woman's rarer gifts as quips mirth-born 
 In Nature's wanton mood, false plumage, worn 
 By eagle-aping dove, that makes a lie 
 
 To woman told a manly lip adorn, 
 To cheat her, kindness, purest chivalry 
 To male Procrustean whim her stretched, lopped 
 soul to tie ? 
 
 XX. 
 
 But woe the hour when he to Chriemhild told 
 
 The thing with smiles, and woe the fatal hour 
 When he the girdle gave and ring of gold 
 
 To Chriemhild ! Better were that princely flower 
 Faded in bud before the deadly dower 
 She took, with laughing lip she took, and breast 
 Untouched by guile. The Norns with viewless 
 
 power 
 Thus wove the darksome woof when life was 
 
 best; 
 
 Thus cruel death oft comes in smiles and joyance 
 drest. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 So Gunther reaped the fruits another sowed, 
 And swayed an empire by another won, 
 
 With unapt hand he swayed ; and Brunhild showed 
 Strange gifts, and spoke strange speech of colour 
 
 dun 
 And cloudy, oft his meaning would out-run, 
 
120 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 Often her lord with mystery perplexed, 
 
 And oft she smiled strange, joyless smiles, as one 
 By un stilled hungering for ever vexed ; 
 To him some fair-limned scroll she seemed of 
 mystic text. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 But from that night her charmed maiden might 
 Took wing, and she her weapons cast aside ; 
 No more the plumed helm throned above her 
 
 bright 
 
 And thoughtful eyes ; no more in martial pride 
 She hurled the spear or cast the swift stone 
 
 wide, 
 No more her tender breast in iron bound ; 
 
 With busy hand the distaff now she plied, 
 About her radiant brow fair flowers she wound, 
 And in all woman's arts and skills was perfect 
 found. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Now sped the bridals merrily, and first 
 
 Was Siegfried, as of yore, in martial game. 
 With Gunther oft he strove, and always worst 
 
 Was Gunther, but in failing felt no shame ; 
 
 Nor did prince Siegfried prize the bloodless fame 
 Of tilting ground ; but much he loved to see 
 
 His prowess set his lady's cheek aflame, 
 And once he marked Brunhild, and saw that she 
 Behind her wimple's fold was weeping silently. 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 121 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Why wept the fair queen? Who the complex strands 
 
 Of woman's thought to certain source may trace? 
 What clue contrived by lightest, deftest hands 
 
 May find that labyrinthine hiding place ? 
 
 The bright tears dimmed the beauty of her face, 
 Her soul the splendid jousts a burden found ; 
 
 Unto her lord she said, " The evil case 
 Of Chriemhild grieves me, to a vassal bound ; 
 Alas ! in what sad coil hast thou thy sister wound!" 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then Gunther, flushing, " Siegfried is a king, 
 And glorious hero tried in hard emprise, 
 
 In after- time high bards his fame will sing, 
 Undying light about his name will rise." 
 And Brunhild, " Mystery around us lies ; 
 
 Not as a king this man thy stirrup held ; 
 Thou, lord of all this realm, in nobler wise 
 
 Shouldst mate thy sister ; better were she celled 
 
 In convent gloom than thus to lowly fate compelled!" 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 And ever when they spoke of Siegfried's fame 
 Or Chriemhild's beauty, waxed the fair queen's 
 grief, 
 
 And when she marked their eyes in holy flame 
 Of love together burn, like autumn's leaf 
 
122 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 Her rose-lip quivered, and her soul reprief 
 In scornful looks found; yet she spake them 
 
 fair, 
 And Chriemhild sister called, and mourned their 
 
 brief 
 
 Sojourn in Worms. But when beyond compare 
 Chriemhild her hero praised, how changed the 
 Valkyr's air ! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 But Chriemhild nothing recked of wrath or pain 
 So pure a light of love about her lay ; 
 
 Each fleeting moment brought her deeper gain 
 Of joy, and Siegfried every dawning day 
 Made closer and of greater price ; thus gay 
 
 As never in life's rosy dawn was she ; 
 
 And, if her early dreams their pinions gray 
 
 Flapped through the chambers of her memory, 
 
 She mused with hope and joy Queen Uta's prophecy. 
 
 xxvin. 
 
 Queen Uta's prophecy, that such a cup 
 Of bliss, as never woman sipped before, 
 
 For her through warrior's love should sparkle up 
 To foaming brim and even overpour 
 In benediction. Then the wan queen's lore 
 
 With smiles she praised ; and Uta, what of woe 
 The dream foretold, to show her child forbore ; 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 123 
 
 Only she said at parting, " Should some blow 
 Of evil hap thee smite so brief is bliss below 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Think on thy mother and thy childhood's home 
 
 And fly, hurt fledgling, to thine early nest." 
 But Chriemhild smiled ; she deemed the transient 
 
 foam, 
 That crowns the cup from life's first vintage 
 
 pressed 
 
 Immortal ; thus, in perfect gladness dressed 
 As in an armour, sorrow she defied ; 
 
 And thus the festal hours with perfect zest 
 Enjoyed, and at her worshipped lover's side 
 Moved softly down the stream of joy's full-flowing 
 tide. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Oh ! happy days, youth's golden, glorious prime, 
 Oh ! dulcet chord of mutual love, that binds 
 
 Discording elements to purest chime 
 Of music ! Happy he who early finds 
 That bliss, while glamour still young vision 
 blinds, 
 
 Thrice happy he ! though sorrow's heavy pall 
 Him shadow, though chill blasts of blighting 
 winds 
 
 On all his blossomed hopes in fury fall, 
 
 In memory still pure joys come trooping at his call. 
 
124 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Joy is a blossom from immortal bowers, 
 It cannot die, though oft it seem to fade, 
 
 Though oft the glory of its Eden flowers, 
 
 Pass from us, ere they long enough have stayed 
 To glass their beauty in the eyes' still shade ; 
 
 Once tasted, bliss is ours for evermore ; 
 
 In lonely nights, when earth to sleep is laid, 
 
 And pain hath clutched the sleeper's temples 
 hoar, 
 
 Past joys with amaranth crowned steal through 
 thought's fast-sealed door. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 And oft the pilgrim on life's desert way, 
 Forspent with travel, pauses for a space, 
 
 All smitten by the noon-tide's piercing ray, 
 The while his sun-dazed eyes a resting place 
 Seek in the fairy fields of youthful grace, 
 
 That lie so far behind ; and there he views 
 Departed joy's young smiling angel-face ; 
 
 He gazes long, he will not lightly lose 
 
 That vision sweet arrayed in morn's aerial hues. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 At last the bride-feast ended ; Sigelind's son 
 His new- wed wife in state to Santen bore ; 
 
THE FATAL GIFTS 125 
 
 To Santen, where the Rhine-waves slower run ; 
 Where in great honour dwelt King Sigmund, 
 
 hoar 
 
 With years and full-ripe wisdom. Not before 
 Had Sigmund seen so fair a bride and sweet ; 
 
 And now was ended all their longing sore. 
 All care and fear for Siegfried's weal ; complete 
 Were now all earthly hopes ; and now to make him 
 meet 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 For loftier life beyond the senses' bound 
 
 Was Sigmund's only care ; he cast away 
 
 His sceptre and his weary brow discrowned ; 
 
 Into his son's strong hand his kingdom's sway 
 
 He gave, and near him in an abbey gray 
 
 Abode with Sigelind. Thus a double realm 
 
 Chriemhild with Siegfried shared, and day by 
 
 day 
 
 Enwreathed him as the wifely vine her elm ; 
 And with a firm bold hand he grasped his two-fold 
 helm. 
 
 xxxv. 
 
 In honour, peace, and bliss long time abode 
 
 That gentle pair, with life's best treasure blest. 
 Mild was their sway and just ; all things men 
 
 sowed 
 
 They reaped, nor dared the strong the weak 
 molest, 
 
126 THE FATAL GIFTS 
 
 King Siegfried every wrong with might redressed, 
 And the far land of mystic Niflheim well 
 
 He ruled. And, ere a second time they pressed 
 The ripened vintage or the red leaf fell, 
 Chriemhild a son bore, fair as pink-lipped ocean 
 shell. 
 
LAY THE FIFTH 
 THE STRIFE OF THE SISTER QUEENS 
 
V. 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Best OLanfc* 
 
 HPELL me the sweetest, fairest spot of earth, 
 
 Tell rne the land of every land most blest ; 
 Lies it beyond the morning's rosy birth ? 
 Lies it beyond the crimson-pillared west ? 
 
 Smiles it upon the broad earth's burning zone, 
 Where chilling blasts of north wind never come ? 
 
 Is it some fairy isle whose sweets are blown 
 Far over sea by zephyrs soft and dumb ? 
 
 Is it some still, enchanted vale of rest, 
 
 Deep in the heart of Alpine mountains old, 
 
 Where sunny peaks their image in the breast, 
 Liquid and still, of sapphire lakes behold ? 
 
 Is it some land of endless afternoon, 
 Where dreamers eat the mystic Lotos-flower ? 
 
 Is it the spot, beheld in magic swoon 
 
 Or visioned trance, of Adam's primal bower ? 
 
 No ; 'tis the land, the land that gave us birth, 
 No ; 'tis the blessed land where first we breathed, 
 
 Where first we wept, where first unconscious mirth 
 Smiles with the baby's tender dimples wreathed. 
 I 
 
130 PRELUDE 
 
 'Tis the sweet land our growing limbs that fed, 
 The land that gave us thews and hearts of men, 
 
 Where beauty first upon our soul was shed, 
 Where Heaven opened first upon our ken. 
 
 That land whose features formed our spirits' mould, 
 Whose soul to ours with earliest breath we drew, 
 
 Where first we saw the seasons 7 pomp unfold, 
 Saw morning's splendour, evening stars and dew. 
 
 Where human care our young souls fenced from pain, 
 Where human love closed round us like a tower, 
 
 Whose skies above us bent in sun or rain, 
 
 On whose green sod we plucked life's earliest 
 flower. 
 
 That land whose speech our earliest faltering prayer 
 Bore up to Heaven and clothed our infant thought, 
 
 Shaped the dim songs of childhood's twilight air, 
 Love's earliest thrills to fit expression wrought. 
 
 That is the fairest, sweetest spot of earth, 
 
 Fertile and fresh, or parched with burning drouth, 
 
 Rich vale of beauty, craggy land of dearth, 
 Bare northern peak, or rich and lustrous south. 
 
 That land the exile's heart with yearning fills, 
 Hearing its tongue beneath unhomely skies, 
 
 Where Nature's glory, throned on mighty hills, 
 Fair smiling plains, or seas, around him lies. 
 
THE BEST LAND 131 
 
 England ! a stronger yearning to thy shore 
 Thy brave, world-wandering sons for ever calls 
 
 Than any land's ; the great sun's golden ore 
 Unceasing on thy scattered children falls ; 
 
 Yet is their England never aught than home, 
 Though in far lands bloom children, brothers 
 sleep, 
 
 To that far island-speck upon the foam 
 
 From fairest climes they turn with longings deep. 
 
 Sweet to the pilgrim, fresh from burning Ind, 
 Rise thy pale cliffs above the azure sea ; 
 
 Sweet over thymy downs the moist, west wind 
 Comes wafted, sweetly smiles the shadowed lea ; 
 
 Sweet is the hoary steeple to his eyes ; 
 
 The straggling village, deep in garden bloom ; 
 Wild tangled hedge-bank, whence tall elms arise ; 
 
 Noon's chastened sunbeams, twilight's dewy 
 gloom. 
 
 What memories on his eager spirit throng, 
 
 What dim, strange thoughts from childhood's far 
 abyss ! 
 
 He sees what he has seen in dreams so long, 
 He fears to wake lest he his joy should miss. 
 
 So deems the child of England, deeply blest 
 To press once more her velvet, verdant sod, 
 
 To lay his head upon her mighty breast, 
 What time his spirit wings its way to God. 
 
132 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 LAY THE FIFTH 
 
 TEbe Strife of tbe Sister (Queens 
 
 i. 
 
 T) RU N H I LD, the bride of valour, won by might 
 Not mortal, dwelt at Worms beside her king, 
 Ten peaceful years ; a man-child, Siegfried hight, 
 She bore King Gunther. Time's unresting wing 
 Her beauty dimmed not, nor the ancient sting 
 Of life's young anguish dulled ; at evening oft 
 
 Or morn, in converse with her lord, one string 
 Of memory she waked with touches soft ; 
 This theme he shunned, as hawk, in circle poised 
 aloft, 
 
 II. 
 
 Unwelcome quarry shuns, and, to the fist 
 
 Of patient trainer lured and loosed once more, 
 
 Again avoids ; yet Brunhild never missed 
 Her purpose ; of the pleasant days of yore 
 She spoke ; how Gunther first the towered shore 
 
 Of Isenland beheld, the glorious fight 
 
 That won her, and the noble fleet that bore 
 
 The spoil of arms to Worms ; the ring, the night 
 
 That lost it ; all the charm of memoried delight. 
 
SISTER QUEENS 133 
 
 ill. 
 
 " That thou thy sister to thy vassal wed, 
 
 To Siegfried, ever grieved me," she would say, 
 
 " Yet much I marvel at their pride ; his head 
 In homage he not bows, nor doth he pay 
 Us tribute ; summers ten have passed away 
 
 Yet thou thy lawful due requirest not/' 
 
 Then Gunther, "In far lands he holdeth sway, 
 
 'Twere marvel did he seek this distant spot, 
 
 Great cares and kingly toils are fallen to Siegfried's 
 lot." 
 
 IV. 
 
 But in the end the woman's will prevailed ; 
 
 Gunther took counsel of his brothers twain, 
 Gernot and Giselher, but subtly veiled 
 
 The purpose of the queen. To clasp again 
 
 Chriemhild and link afresh the holy chain 
 Of blood and friendship that so straitly bound 
 
 Them to the Dragon-slayer, Brunhild would fain 
 Behold them ; then fit messengers were found ; 
 Thus in the iris woof Norns threads of blackness 
 
 wound. 
 
 v. 
 
 Now, after journeying many a weary day, 
 The messengers the dim and distant strand 
 
 Of Niflheim reached; and welcome as the May 
 In wintry climes, were men from Chriemhild's 
 land 
 
134 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 To Siegfried ; and they did their lord's command ; 
 Said he would see his brother's face once more 
 
 At the high feast the olden usage planned, 
 What time the sun turned on the height and bore 
 Back southward, filling barn and press with 
 bounteous store. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then Siegfried's heart with honest gladness leapt, 
 Not deeming aught of Brunhild's hidden scorn, 
 
 Or Brunhild's hidden wrath, that never slept ; 
 He joyed that Gunther all those years had worn 
 So true a friendship, and, upon the morn 
 
 When first his eyes the pure and princely grace 
 Of Chriemhild saw, he mused, and pleasure born 
 
 Of freshened memory held him for a space ; 
 
 Then to the queen he told the thing with eager face. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Then rosy dyes the queen's fair cheek suffuse 
 At thought of seeing home and kin once more ; 
 
 Her gentle eyes brimmed up with blissful dews 
 At Brunhild's kindness ; memories of yore, 
 Like odour of dried roses, floated o'er 
 
 Her soul, and she her lord with urgence prayed 
 To bear her to the Rhine's remembered shore ; 
 
 Of peril and long absence, undismayed 
 
 She heard, so they with joy all plans for travel made. 
 
SISTER QUEENS 135 
 
 VIII. 
 
 First to Dwarf Alberich Siegfried gave the helm 
 Of Niblung's mystic land, with all its gold, 
 
 To keep for him ; then, his paternal realm 
 Of Santen, to a man of wisdom old 
 But youthful strength, he gave in trust to hold ; 
 
 Then many wains with noble gifts were piled, 
 Arms, gems, and precious stuffs of heavy fold. 
 
 Thus fared they forth, and Chriemhild's nine 
 year's child, 
 
 Gunther, beside her rode and on the warriors smiled. 
 
 IX. 
 
 And near them came the aged father king, 
 Sigmund, with Sigelind, in a litter borne. 
 
 The ever-circling year had passed the spring, 
 Warm winds swept verdant seas of billowing corn, 
 The rose's heart of splendour hid the thorn, 
 
 In darkling woods the nightingale was mute ; 
 But still the throstle charmed the awaking morn, 
 
 And still at eve was heard the blackbird's flute, 
 
 Warmly on woodland banks lurked gold and crimson 
 
 fruit : 
 
 x. 
 
 And all day long the lark's sweet, soaring choir 
 Through heaven's deeps were borne on waves of 
 
 song; 
 Anon a voice in rapture would expire 
 
136 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 And drop the minstrel ; so, shot from a throng 
 Of frosty stars, some bright orb sweeps along 
 The blue and falls ; the honey-scented breeze 
 Green meadows skimmed, where mowers, brown 
 
 and strong, 
 Long, blooming swathes swept down with measured 
 
 ease ; 
 
 The woodbine's delicate horn poured sweets beneath 
 green trees ; 
 
 XI. 
 
 Night's balmy veil scarce dusked the dreaming 
 
 world, 
 
 The dead day smiled till dawn in heavens pale, 
 The short, smooth sward with scanty dew was 
 
 pearled, 
 
 Scarce had the north star seen the secret dale 
 Ere the young morning made a silvery trail 
 Along the east ; at bright and breathless noon 
 
 A planted spear no shadow made, a sail 
 One thin line cast beneath it ; all aswoon 
 With rapture, life seemed, lulled by hidden brook's 
 low croon. 
 
 XII. 
 
 By land and sea, by day and night, they fared 
 All in the summer's blue and balmy prime ; 
 Strange towns they saw, from towers strange 
 
 faces glared, 
 
 Anon they marked white summits heavenward 
 climb, 
 
SISTER QUEENS 137 
 
 Anon on sunny slopes balm-breathing thyme 
 Their steeds trod ; then some shadowy woodland 
 
 dell 
 
 They entered, grateful ; now the gentle chime 
 They heard afar of consecrated bell, 
 And now from hill-top caught far ocean's azure 
 swell. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 So in the glowing heart of glorious June, 
 
 Home-lands they reached and unforgotten meads, 
 Where spinners sang at cottage doors the tune 
 That Chriemhild hushed her child with ; even 
 
 the weeds 
 
 These wore, recalled old times and kindly deeds 
 In childhood ; then she told her eager son, 
 
 "This road straight onward through the city 
 
 leads, 
 
 And yonder Rhine's fair shining waters run, 
 And yonder rise the towers where me thy father 
 won." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But ere they reached the city's bastioned gate, 
 They marked afar a host in splendour gleam 
 Around the brother kings ; these seeing them, 
 
 straight 
 
 King Gunther spurred ahead. And now a 
 dream 
 
138 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 To Chriemhild all the vanished ten years seem ; 
 Once more she sees her kinsmen face to face, 
 
 Once more her father's towers, the child-loved 
 
 stream 
 
 Of Rhine ; and all the sweet remembered grace 
 Of maiden days came back and held her for a space. 
 
 xv. 
 Then the kings, 'lighted to the flower-strewn 
 
 ground, 
 
 The friend of blissful youth with joy received, 
 And Siegfried's gold-haired son King Gunther 
 
 wound 
 
 In loving arms and high in air upheaved ; 
 All spoke, but none replied, and sighs relieved 
 The over-joy. And each in his degree, 
 
 The kingly parents, and the guards gold-greaved 
 From Niflheim, the kings welcomed cordially ; 
 Then through the city passed the goodly company. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The city, all abloom with fresh-cut flowers, 
 
 And flower-like faces, crowning gallery 
 And casement; there blank walls and glooming 
 towers 
 
 Shone rich with golden-folded tapestry. 
 
 Liege citizens of high and low degree 
 The humming streets with cheerful faces lined, 
 
 And goodly knights and ladies fair to see, 
 
SISTER QUEENS 139 
 
 Their heads in gracious reverence inclined 
 From carven balconies with silks and garlands 
 twined. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Like to the light of myriad gleaming stars 
 In winter midnight, shone the liquid eyes 
 
 Of all those ladies ; like faint-rumoured wars 
 From distant lands, like hidden seas, that rise 
 And fall unseen in full-toned symphonies 
 
 Beneath tall cliffs, arose the deep strong hum 
 Of men's hushed voices ; now it broke to cries 
 
 And fell; and now the strangers nearer come, 
 
 And now the Niblung's child with awed delight is 
 dumb. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Here maidens showered blossoms, children wept 
 
 To see the hero, who the dragon slew, 
 And the strange glittering guards, who proudly 
 
 swept 
 
 Along with all the treasure. Chriemhild threw 
 Rich largesse, smiling ; many a face she knew ; 
 Brides newly pledged, who erst as children 
 
 played 
 
 At her betrothal ; long-limbed lads, who drew 
 Their earliest breath ; a matron, then a maid 
 Betrothed, whom now a band of lusty sons 
 obeyed. 
 
140 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 XIX. 
 
 At last they paused before the hoary towers 
 Of Chriemhild's early home beside the Rhine, 
 
 There with her dames, a rose among bright flowers, 
 
 Stood Brunhild ; sworded men in ordered line 
 
 , A quivering steelflash made, and many a mine 
 
 Had yawned to deck the throng with lustre rare ; 
 Siegfried, Brunhilda's child of summers nine, 
 
 Smiled there with roguish eyes and sunny hair 
 
 By Uta ; blunted arms the little warrior bare. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Down from her palfrey Chriemhild lighted swift, 
 Long in her arms the widowed queen she pressed 
 
 With happy tears ; anon she stooped to lift 
 
 Brunhild's young warrior to her heart and blessed 
 The lad, while Uta Siegfried's son caressed ; 
 
 Thus made they very joyous cheer, and bliss 
 Grew on them ; thus no boding stirred the breast 
 
 Of Chriemhild, meeting Brunhild's gentle kiss, 
 
 Nor felt she on her lips the traitor's burning hiss. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 But Uta marked with awe the lifting veil 
 Of future things ; upon her queenly child, 
 
 On Chriemhild, wistfully she gazed, and, pale 
 With present joy and coming woe, she smiled. 
 
SISTER QUEENS 141 
 
 Gunther, with restless foot and glances wild, 
 Paced swiftly, like a boy in forest hoar 
 
 At eve entangled and by tales beguiled 
 Of dim enchantment ; thus sweet things of yore 
 That Siegfried brought to mind in secret dread he 
 
 bore - xxii. 
 
 But this the Niblung marked not, full of joy 
 
 As when he won his loved and lovely dream ; 
 Life's fairy gold, unmingled with alloy, 
 
 Before him flashed its soft, alluring beam ; 
 
 Deeply he drank the fair, full-flowing stream 
 Of youth's far-dreamed and manhood's actual bliss, 
 
 And with his friend he touched the gracious theme 
 Of young enthusiasms, plans of his 
 For good of man, fulfilled ; but Gunther heard amiss. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 For all his thought was set on Brunhild's words, 
 Lest she some spark of unextinguished hate 
 
 Might fire, and from her lips him seemed that 
 
 swords 
 
 Leapt piercing, and this fear a mountain weight 
 Pressed on him. Oft he saw, when night grew late 
 
 And sleep weighed heavy on his out-watched eyes, 
 Dread visions stalk along with tragic gait, 
 
 And, dreaming, clutched his sword, dreaming, 
 with cries 
 
 Awoke to see the morn from rosy mist-folds rise. 
 
142 THE 'STRIFE OF THE 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 But, as the days passed peaceful, quiet grew 
 Upon him, and these things, like deeds of old 
 
 By minstrel sung, waxed faint and dim of hue, 
 And Gunther's spirit took its ancient hold 
 Of life. Afar on crest of hill, or wold, 
 
 High-lying, flamed the mystic summer fires, 
 The night the sun his chariot turned and rolled 
 
 Slant southward ; cressets lit the city spires ; 
 
 Men feasted, as of old, their god-descended sires 
 
 xxv. 
 
 Had feasted, ere the gentle Christian lore 
 Tamed all the world ; but softer were the rites 
 
 They practised now than in the pagan yore ; 
 The city ways were full of wondrous sights, 
 Of cunning pageantries and quaint delights ; 
 
 Before the kings high jousts of arms were held, 
 Fair dames of noble blood contending knights 
 
 With smiles and spirit-kindling looks beheld ; 
 
 Such gorgeous revelry oft pleased the dim, rich eld. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 But, amid all the feasting, darkly grew 
 The web of fear. Though Brunhild's wrath and 
 scorn 
 
 A loving semblance wore to outward view, 
 Deep in her breast she hid the fretting thorn, 
 
SISTER QUEENS 143 
 
 And oft to Chriemhild spoke she of the morn 
 When Gunther brought her to the Rhineland 
 
 shore, 
 
 And all the pleasant time when first was born 
 Their friendship, of the marriage feast, the store 
 Of bliss that heaped their lot with blessings 
 brimming o'er. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 It chanced one day in hall the fair queens span, 
 Watching hard by their sturdy lads at play ; 
 
 When, roused from thought, said Chriemhild 
 
 " Such a man 
 
 Is mine, methinks by right the kingly sway 
 Of many lands were his, him might obey 
 
 Great kings with honour ; how so great a one 
 Is mine, I know not." Then Brunhild no way 
 
 To breathe her anger found ; what she had spun 
 
 She spoiled; from tight-clenched hands she made 
 the red blood run. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 This Chriemhild marked not in her deep content, 
 But, glancing through the open lattice-bars, 
 
 She saw the kings as they a-hawking went 
 And said, "A brilliant moon among pale stars 
 Siegfried with other heroes rides ; great wars 
 
 And valorous deeds have never marred the grace 
 Of youth upon him/ Then the ancient scars 
 
H4 THE 'STRIFE OF THE 
 
 Of hate burst open ; all her beauteous face 
 By fury changed, her deep breaths battling with 
 the lace 
 
 That bound her bosom, Brunhild fiercely cried, 
 "Wide lands are Gunther's. He is greater far 
 
 Than Siegfried much I marvel at thy pride, 
 Thou vassal's wife ! When Gunther came to war 
 For me, Siegfried his vassal stood. A star, 
 
 A little falling star beneath the moon, 
 
 Is he by Gunther ! " " Let us leave to mar 
 
 Our love by words soon said but not so soon 
 
 Forgot," Chriemhild replied, wan-hued as in a 
 swoon ; 
 
 xxx. 
 
 " Yet to no vassal me my brothers wed, 
 Of other things, dear sister, let us tell." 
 
 Thus Siegfried's gentle wife would fain have led 
 The angered queen to sweeter thoughts and well 
 Have ended ; but the fierce, tempestuous swell 
 
 Of passion in the Valkyr not so soon 
 
 Might she subdue ; as light, in hollow cell 
 
 Pent up, the surging ocean from the moon 
 
 With human hands restrain, or hold at highest noon 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 The sun's bright chargers from their downward path 
 To evening's glowing gates, as seek to hold 
 
 In check the torrent of Brunhilda's wrath, 
 That from her lips in burning passion rolled ; 
 
SISTER QUEENS 145 
 
 " I will not speak of aught till I have told 
 Thy husband's state ; he is, and aye shall be, 
 
 Our vassal. Tribute he shall pay of gold 
 And service ; such King Gunther, save for thee, 
 Long since had claimed by arms ; our vassal still 
 is he." 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 This Chriemhild heard with breathless, mute 
 amaze 
 
 And marvelled, was she of her wits bereaved, 
 That haughty queen ? and in her azure eyes 
 
 Some righteous anger shone, and sorrow heaved 
 
 Her bosom as she said, " Thou art deceived, 
 Dear sister ; Siegfried is the mightiest man 
 
 And noblest hero ever breath received ; 
 A stripling, ere his manhood's spring began, 
 Such deeds he wrought as not in life's full summer 
 can 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " My brother. What he wrought will babes unborn 
 In after-ages sing ; the realms he won 
 
 Are greater far than Gunther's ; treasures torn 
 From awful powers are his ; no mother's son 
 Can match with him in aught that he has done. 
 
 Oft have I marvelled Gunther yields him naught 
 In tribute ; yet wouldst thou this topic shun 
 K 
 
146 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 Didst thou once know what Siegfried's arm hath 
 
 wrought 
 For Gunther in old times^-in this thou art 
 
 untaught." 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 Then waxed the strong queen's wrath ; her 
 
 spinning, rent 
 
 In fury, she cast down ; her nostril fine, 
 Dilating, quivered ; all her breath was spent 
 In thickly-coming gasps ; the lovely line 
 That traced her bosom's curve moved like the 
 
 Rhine, 
 Storm-smitten ; thus, beneath an arch's spring, 
 
 She stood erect with darkly flashing eyne, 
 One white arm spread abroad, like opened wing 
 For flight, and barbed her words with anger's 
 fiercest sting. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " Thou vassal's wife ! will nothing bate thy pride ? 
 
 Deceived ? The word is thine. Before the face 
 Of all the people let our cause be tried ; 
 
 Then shalt thou see which takes the foremost 
 place, 
 
 Then shalt thou see and hide thy soul's disgrace 
 In grief. The vassal's wife shall not precede 
 
 The reigning queen. Oft have I grieved how base 
 Thy lot is, lowly wed. Of royal seed 
 Thou comest, but thy fall with meekness thou 
 shouldst heed." 
 
SISTER QUEENS 147 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 Then Chriemhild's lovely lip the unlovely curve 
 Of wrath took, when she heard the furious queen ; 
 
 Deep in her breast she felt the giddy swerve 
 Of passion, burning words of bitter spleen 
 Arose ; but this she calmed, and spoke serene ; 
 
 " So be it ! When the people throng to mass 
 To-morrow at the minster, let the scene 
 
 Be played. We twain upon the plot of grass 
 
 Will meet, and she is first who first the gates shall 
 pass." 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Thus the first striving of the sister queens 
 
 Arose and burst in fury not to die. 
 Meanwhile the princely boys at play, to scenes 
 
 Of women's wrath unused, stood troubled by 
 
 And let the mimic targe and helmet lie ; 
 The maidens stood with pallid lips, and fear 
 
 Their breath caught, when along the vaulting 
 
 high 
 
 The angered queen's voice rang in echoes clear, 
 Of meaning dimly guessed, yet boding evil near. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Then Brunhild from the hall in anger swept, 
 Her eyes scorn-flashing, and her ladies rose 
 
 And followed ; but Chriemhild her station kept, 
 Deep musing. In the pane the still sun glows 
 
148 THE "STRIFE OF THE 
 
 Through liquid ruby stains, blood drops it throws 
 Upon the folded lilies of her hands, 
 
 Until at last she turned and changed her pose, 
 Like one who breaks from some dread vision's 
 
 bands, 
 
 Or marks a foe close couched in far and friendless 
 lands. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 She stood beside a pillar, marble-still, 
 
 The native glories of her gold hair crowned 
 Her gentle beauty, and her young son, ill 
 
 Dim-boding, with his arms her tall form wound ; 
 
 A red stain lay upon the rush-strewn ground, 
 Upon her robe's gold fringe, upon the chair, 
 
 Rich-carven. Her the mother queen thus found, 
 Queen Uta ; ere the thing was past repair, 
 She sought to heal the strife with gentle words and 
 fair. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Then Chriemhild, hearkening, stroked the sunny 
 hair 
 
 Of her young son ; so stood she there of old, 
 When her great beauty was but promise fair, 
 
 So stood she there and doubtful visions told, 
 
 Unwitting all the glory that should fold 
 Her future days ; and Uta, heavenly- wise, 
 
 The truth saw, and the mystic dream unrolled 
 Before the maiden's charmed and startled eyes, 
 Then coming joys she saw in sweet and still surprise; 
 
SISTER QUEENS 149 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Yet the vague words that Uta breathed of woe, 
 Far-darkening, in her joy she heeded not ; 
 
 So faint the images of sorrow show 
 To eyes youth-dewy, so the central spot 
 Of Hope by youthful bows is straightly shot ; 
 
 These, warning, Uta breathed again, that fear 
 Might hold Chriemhild, by wrath her blissful lot 
 
 To mar not. But her gentle soul was clear 
 
 And still, as after noon's wild storm, a star-strewn 
 mere. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 For what of evil in the lady dwelt 
 Lay hidden in the innermost recess 
 
 Of her sweet soul, dark, silent, still unfelt ; 
 Nor did Chriemhild that germ's existence guess, 
 Or dream that some far day in bitterness 
 
 It might awake ; not lightly did she brook 
 Hard thought of others ; rather to caress 
 
 Than curse her lips their lovely curving took ; 
 
 Thus, pitying, Brunhild's wrath from memory she 
 shook. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 So from her spotless plume a snowy swan, 
 Unruffled, water-drops in gliding throws ; 
 
 She deemed some thoughtless word of hers began 
 Her sister's wrath ; thus, when at morn she rose 
 
150 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 With soul renewed by still and soft repose, 
 Her orisons she said at dewy prime, 
 
 Unvexed by shade of wrath ; so flowers unclose 
 In sunlight, so the lark his matin chime 
 Rings out in joy unreached by poet's sweetest rhyme. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Then wended she with all her gracious train 
 Of high-born ladies solemnly to mass ; 
 
 Fair thoughts were hers and holy, not one vain 
 Or evil thing the portal pure might pass 
 Of her well-guarded soul ; as in a glass 
 
 Unshadowed she her inmost sins reviewed ; 
 Thus, full of thought, she reached the plot of grass 
 
 Before the minster, still by night bedewed, 
 
 And passed the waiting throngs with modest 
 
 grace endued. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 The folk stood back to yield the gentle queen 
 
 Free passage ; then she raised her eyes awhile 
 And saw all fresh in morning's golden sheen 
 
 The lofty glories of the noble pile ; 
 
 Thence mighty angels bent, with tender smile 
 And yearning wings outspread ; there martyrs 
 calm 
 
 In high-poised niche rejoiced ; there from an isle 
 Of jewelled gold the Mother-Maid breathed balm, 
 There sweet-faced saints adored God's child with 
 folded palm. 
 
SISTER QUEENS 151 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 There prayer breathed through massive walls of 
 stone, 
 
 From fretted pinnacle that pierced the sky, 
 From light-winged buttress, blossom-beaded zone 
 
 Round clustered shafts, from tower embattled high ; 
 
 Carved birds and squirrels, hidden daintily 
 In leaf-entangled fruit, still prayer breathed ; 
 
 There marbles pure of richly various dye, 
 Deep-yawning arches, pillars flower-wreathed, 
 Praised God in beauty yet beneath men's passions 
 seethed. 
 
 XLVI I. 
 And there before the solemn majesty 
 
 Of that far-soaring pile of sculptured stone, 
 In hearing of the deep-voiced harmony 
 
 That flooded all the aisles with heaven-sweet tone, 
 
 Now loud, now soft, like roar of billows blown 
 Far over storm-swept downs, stood Brunhild, rich 
 
 Of raiment, wrathful pale ; her dark eyes shone, 
 Stern-purposed ; she was strung to resolute pitch, 
 Nor marked she saintly looks above in carven niche. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 But marked was she of all the hurrying crowd, 
 
 As each one, passing, rev'rence loyal made 
 Till Chriemhild came. Then cried Brunhild aloud, 
 
 Advancing, that the train perforce was stayed 
 
152 THE STRIFE OF THE 
 
 And the crowd stopped, as one to stop them bade, 
 To ChriemhikTs face, Brunhild cried," Stop ! before 
 
 The queen a vassal may not go ! " Affrayed, 
 The ladies in each following trembled sore, 
 While Brunhild turned, and passed towards the 
 deep-arched door. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Now Chriemhild paused, from holy musing torn 
 
 So roughly ; Chriemhild paused, erect and pale ; 
 Tumultuous throbs her heart shook, wrath, pride- 
 born, 
 
 Her deep eyes lit beneath her backward veil, 
 Wind-tossed ; quick breaths that boded coming 
 
 bale 
 
 Escaped her nostril fine and close-pressed lips ; 
 Transformed was she, as, in enchanter's tale 
 Some lovely lady, when her beauty slips 
 Away at soft-waved wand, by passion's dread 
 eclipse. 
 
 L. 
 
 Oh, gentle lady, better never born 
 
 Wert thou than meeting thus thy crucial hour ! 
 Where was thine angel guard, that summer morn, 
 
 That he not quenched this wrath with instant 
 power, 
 
 Nor snatched thee hence to dizzy-heighted tower 
 Before thy lips the fatal secret spoke ? 
 
 Far better wert thou faded ere thy flower, 
 
SISTER QUEENS 153 
 
 Before this sudden anger from thee broke, 
 
 The spark that hissing flame from smouldering 
 
 embers woke. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Was it Chriemhild that spake, Chriemhild, indeed, 
 
 The gentle queen, unapt to wrath and scorn ? 
 Why swayed her body like wind-smitten reed, 
 
 When sudden tempest o'er the lake is borne ? 
 
 What visioned beauty from her face was torn, 
 What wild, fierce spirit in her sweet eyes burned ? 
 
 Ay me ! had she from speech that fateful morn 
 Her anger held ! Far lighter backward turned 
 Blown flames in ripened corn than woman's wrath 
 
 well-earned. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Her passion burst as music from a lyre, 
 Impassive, rudely struck by skilless hand, 
 
 In keen, cold speech that kindled deathless fire 
 In Brunhild's soul, as flint and steel a brand 
 With sharp swift strokes enflame until some land 
 
 Is wasted. " Better hadst thou held thy peace/' 
 She cried, and Brunhild, startled, turned to stand 
 
 Before her, and the crowd with swift increase 
 
 Of wonder saw the dawn of hate that could not 
 
 cease. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 " Far better hadst thou held thy peace to-day ! " 
 She cried, her breath with gusts of passion torn, 
 
 " For, is Siegfried a vassal, yet obey 
 
 Him must thou as thy master. He with scorn 
 
154 THE 'STRIFE OF THE 
 
 Thy love unvalued and unasked hath borne ; 
 Then twice he overcame thee, thee he bound 
 
 For Gunther, when upon his marriage-morn 
 The humbled king in shame and grief he found 
 I would thou hadst not stung my soul the thing 
 to sound 
 
 LIV. 
 
 " Before the world ! I would thou hadst not stirred 
 This passion in me ! Oh ! my friend, believe 
 
 Without my will escaped this bitter word, 
 
 The word thy madness asked. I grieve, I grieve, 
 That I have let the fatal secret leave 
 
 My guarded lips. Oh ! let us once again 
 Be kind, and do not thou, I pray, bereave 
 
 My heart of love ; but let us wash the stain 
 
 Of wrath with tears away from friendship's hallowed 
 chain." 
 
 LV. 
 
 Thus the fair queen, repenting ere the close 
 Of that strong passion's burst ; regretful tears 
 
 Dew-sparkles made upon the velvet rose 
 
 Of her pure cheek, and all her soul with fears 
 Was tossed. But Brunhild, like some sage who 
 hears 
 
 In trance the doom of nations, marble pale 
 And rigid stood ; it seemed a thousand spears 
 
 Her bosom smote ; then suddenly the veil 
 
 That dimmed past things her eyes left. Like a 
 gale 
 
SISTER QUEENS 155 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Her fury smote her scorned, deceived, undone, 
 
 As woman, queen, and warrior betrayed, 
 And now, in sight of morning's clear-eyed sun, 
 
 Her agony before her people laid ! 
 
 Her heart's best blood she willingly had paid 
 To win one hour of charmed strength again, 
 
 t)ne hour to be the glorious warrior maid, 
 Who made great heroes bite the bloody plain 
 And mowed thick ranks of war like autumn's red- 
 ripe grain. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 So struck to stone she stood ; the turning scale 
 Of Chriemhild's poured-out wrath she heeded 
 
 not, 
 
 Like infant touches spent on coats of mail 
 The gentle queen's soft words upon her hot 
 And heavy senses fell. Then crimson shot 
 Athwart her dusk-pale cheek, as pitying eyes 
 
 Met hers, and suddenly the hateful spot 
 She left, she knew not how ; but stifled cries 
 Torn from her deep soul rose through holy 
 symphonies. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Thus the blest mysteries with unblest soul 
 
 The sister-queens beheld ; with tears and sighs 
 
 Chriemhild ; but Brunhild's deep and deadly dole 
 Escaped not through her passion-blazing eyes ; 
 
156 THE 'STRIFE OF THE 
 
 She heard the sweet, strong-chanted prayers rise 
 And float among the ribs of vaulted stone ; 
 She heard impatient, while fierce agonies 
 Her breast gnawed, while men's furtive glances 
 
 thrown 
 
 Towards her, made her soul, deep-wounded, inly 
 moan. 
 
 LIX. 
 A century it seemed those pains of hell 
 
 Tore Brunhild, while she heard the chanted prayer; 
 Then suddenly a doubt upon her fell 
 
 That Chriemhild's words were but the stormy air 
 Of woman's wrath, and thus she left despair ; 
 And when the mass was ended, at the door 
 
 She stood to face her foe, and bade her swear 
 Her words the bitter fruit of wrath that bore 
 Her over bounds of truth, harsh railing, nothing 
 more. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Then Chriemhild, gnawed by grief and gentle 
 
 ruth 
 
 For the wan queen, a moment paused in doubt, 
 And mused if she upon that deadly truth 
 
 A veil should throw, and, while thus tossed about 
 With thoughts, she spoke not. Then the bitter 
 
 flout 
 
 Of Brunhild came again, " Speak, vassal's wife," 
 She cried, " and pass, and let my people out, 
 
SISTER QUEENS 157 
 
 Who wait behind thee." Like a keen -edged 
 
 knife, 
 Straight plunged in beating breast, the words 
 
 stabbed ; thus the strife, 
 
 LXI. 
 
 A moment stilled, burned fiercer. Then again 
 
 Chriemhild the secret spoke, and Brunhild cried 
 For proof ; and now so sorely burned the pain 
 Within her, well-nigh swooned she at the side 
 Of Chriemhild, ere the angered queen replied, 
 " Thine own undoing askest thou. Behold ! " 
 And Brunhild looked, and saw, with down-crushed 
 
 pride, 
 
 Forthdrawn from Chriemhild's robe of silken fold, 
 A ring she knew too well and zone of burnished 
 gold. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 " These Siegfried won from thee and, laughing, 
 
 gave 
 To me ! " Then Brunhild spoke no word ; too 
 
 deep 
 
 The arrow smote ; but yearnings for a grave 
 Fell on her and an everlasting sleep ; 
 No more she sought her broken pride to keep, 
 But turned and passed among the whispering 
 
 throng ; 
 Unheeding aught but pain, she swore to sweep 
 
158 THE' STRIFE OF THE 
 
 Siegfried from living men and brand her wrong 
 Deep in his widow's soul with burnings fierce and 
 strong. 
 
 LXIII. 
 Now soon the city's myriad voices rose 
 
 And buzzed the thing about, and soon the kings 
 The story heard. The door to endless woes 
 In this King Gunther saw ; he felt the stings 
 Of conscience, and remorse his baleful wings 
 About him flapped. And Siegfried heard with 
 
 pain ; 
 Straight to Chriemhild he went and heard what 
 
 things 
 Had passed. Then his first wrath and last the 
 
 chain 
 
 Of love between them wrenched with rough and 
 angry strain. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 But much the lady wept and much she clung 
 
 About him that his wrath soon passed away ; 
 And he, forgiving, sighed that woman's tongue 
 
 Such bitter coil should make; he mourned the 
 day 
 
 That he to Chriemhild gave the golden prey. 
 Then took they counsel how they might appease 
 
 The kindled strife, Queen Brunhild's fury stay, 
 And Gunther hearten, who the bitter lees 
 Of shame and sorrow drank, with deep indignities. 
 
SISTER QUEENS 159 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Lightly to Gunther Siegfried fared and spake 
 
 Soft, healing things and bade him mend his cheer, 
 "Words are but words," he said, "and do not 
 break 
 
 Men's armour ; women's strife we need not fear ; 
 
 These ladies have forgot themselves ; a tear, 
 A smile, and all is well with them again. 
 
 My wife is full of grief that she so near 
 The queen hath touched. To heal her sister's pain 
 She will do much; more swift is she to bless 
 
 than bane." 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Then Gunther, " That my sister is to blame 
 I think not ; Brunhild's pride this evil coil 
 
 Hath wound about us. No more love, but shame 
 Shall I from Brunhild win. Methinks 't is toil 
 Mis-spent this Valkyr's fury to assoyle ; 
 
 Yet peace not war would I for mine and thine." 
 Then Siegfried in his breast the healing oil 
 
 Of love poured, and, as one who drinks new wine, 
 
 King Gunther's soul revived, and he the fatal twine 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 That wrapped them all about in snaky fold, 
 With careful hand to disentangle sought ; 
 
 In other forms he tried the tale to mould 
 
 Of by-gone days, and what his brother wrought 
 
160 THE" SISTER QUEENS 
 
 For him he hid in subtleties of thought. 
 This Brunhild sullen heard, all undeceived, 
 
 Inly she gnawed her pain, but uttered nought 
 Or good or bad to Gunther. He believed 
 Her wrath at end ; behind the veil he nought 
 perceived. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Then the fair sister-queens met once again 
 
 And Chriemhild gave good words and Brunhild 
 smiled ; 
 
 So smiles the frosty moon, when bud and grain 
 In May she blasts ; and Chriemhild, soon beguiled 
 As guileless souls are, wept that she so mild 
 
 And sweet was, after words so deadly keen ; 
 
 And much she marvelled her own wrath so wild, 
 
 So bridleless, with sweet Brunhild had been ; 
 
 In all men's ears she blest the quick-forgiving queen. 
 
 LXIX. 
 Thus there was hollow peace between the twain, 
 
 And thus the kings the strife forgotten deemed ; 
 That the spark even now the deadly train 
 
 Of hate had fired, no soul about them dreamed, 
 
 So fair and pleasant all things outward seemed 
 In that sweet summer time, so gaily sped 
 
 The lordly jousts, so rich a sunlight streamed 
 On tower and town. Thus Siegfried ate his bread 
 With joy, nor saw the sword that shook above his 
 head. 
 
LAY THE SIXTH 
 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 r\ LINDEN-TREE, sweet linden-tree, 
 
 All bathed in golden glow, 
 With thy branches swaying pleasantly 
 In the charmed air to and fro ; 
 
 Drowsily hums thy murmurous dome 
 
 With myriad airy wings, 
 Thy blossoms burst in golden foam 
 
 The breeze to the sunbeam flings : 
 
 O linden-tree, how sweet to be 
 
 Beneath thy branches laid, 
 With thy soft song lulling quietly, 
 
 In the cool and scented shade ; 
 
 All day to gaze at the tremulous maze 
 
 Then slip to balmy sleep, 
 When the flitting gleams of mystic dreams 
 
 The senses spell-bound keep ! 
 
164 THE LINDEN-TREE 
 
 So burned of old thy leaves of gold 
 
 Above the hunter's head, 
 When he sought repose at the long day's close 
 
 On the mossed earth's quiet bed. 
 
 So drooped thy scented bloom above 
 
 The Minnesinger's song, 
 Or the dance that sped with airy tread 
 
 The summer evening long. 
 
 And once the stain of blood hath lain 
 
 In thy still and sacred shade, 
 When a hero died for a woman's pride, 
 
 By a brother's hand betrayed. 
 
 What soul-bewildering fumes arise 
 
 From thy censer, slowly swung 
 By the priestly wind to evening skies, 
 
 With vespers softly sung ! 
 
 O linden fair, what magic rare 
 
 Breathes down thy rustling shades ! 
 
 Thy leaves unfold dim tales of old ; 
 I hear the clash of blades : 
 
 Before me pass, as in a glass, 
 
 Those Teuton warriors old ; 
 They rise and stand, as a living band, 
 
 And not as a tale that 's told. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 165 
 
 LA Y THE SIXTH 
 
 i. 
 
 *^T O T long the fire-winged steeds had south- 
 ward turned, 
 
 Nor yet their glowing path its steep incline 
 Much shortened ; still the festal torches burned 
 
 And still at Worms, in honour half divine, 
 
 Abode the hero, whose renown will shine 
 While German blood in German hearts shall beat, 
 
 Siegfried. The first small spark had fired the line, 
 Henceforth to blaze in fierce and deadly heat, 
 Till in one furnaced woe all agonies should meet, 
 
 II. 
 The Niblung woe. And yet the fatal strife, 
 
 By pride enkindled, waged seven morns ago, 
 By Chriemhild with her brother's haughty wife, 
 
 And her wrath-wakened words, that laid so low 
 
 Brunhilda's pride, for which ere long should flow 
 Such tears and blood, lay dark in memory, 
 
 Half-lost to her. And yet the kings of woe, 
 Dark-gathering, dreamed not, nor the foam could see 
 That tipped the up-gathered wave of imminent 
 destiny. 
 
i66 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 in. 
 As some fierce tigress of her cubs bereaved 
 
 Rages, so Brunhild, to her bosom's core 
 Stabbed by her shame made public, raged and 
 
 grieved ; 
 
 Adown her lustrous cheeks, like molten ore, 
 The hot tears poured ; her anguish was too sore ; 
 Von Troneck Hagen watched those teardrops falling, 
 
 (A man more loyal never weapon bore), 
 He saw her grief, and on high Heaven calling, 
 To his liege queen he swore a vengeance heart- 
 appalling. 
 
 IV. 
 
 This Hagen swore. And nights and morrows twain 
 
 He brooded on it, held from any speech ; 
 So broods red storm upon a breathless plain, 
 So cling the vampire and the unsated leech ; 
 Then straitly he King Gunther did beseech 
 For vengeance on the man who wrought the woe 
 To Brunhild. Thus was schemed the impious 
 
 breach 
 
 Of faith, and planned the fratricidal blow ; 
 And thus the smouldering sparks of hate began 
 to glow. 
 
 v. 
 
 First, noise of war was made ; then came a change, 
 And all were bidden to a five days' chase, 
 
 Burgundians and Niblungs ; and the range 
 
 From Worms was distant one day's journeying 
 s pace. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 167 
 
 So Siegfried set himself with joyous face 
 To go a hunting, and it was the eve 
 
 Of their departure ; but with listless pace 
 Chriemhild, as one who newly learns to grieve, 
 Went, wrapt in boding fears she could not all 
 believe ; 
 
 VI. 
 
 For mystic dreams had thrilled her heart that night 
 
 With portents, like to those in days gone by, 
 Ere her slim body gained its princely height, 
 
 Or the full soul within her fired her eye ; 
 
 Now, as she walked upon the rampart high, 
 Dim-boding, Hagen marked her, and he came 
 
 To bid her farewell ; then with long-drawn sigh 
 She turned, and met the warrior's glance of flame 
 And told him all her dread, as with unchallenged 
 claim 
 
 VII. 
 Upon his aid. " To whom in this distress 
 
 For counsel can I turn, but thee, O friend ? 
 Save thou my hero, and my soul shall bless 
 
 Both thee and thine till time for me shall end." 
 
 Then he his word most willingly doth lend : 
 And she, " When Siegfried slew the dragon fell, 
 
 The guard of Niblung gold, he did unbend 
 His strained limbs in the brute's hot blood, and well 
 He bathed, and all his body sheathed in wound- 
 proof shell. 
 
168 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " But while my Siegfried bathed, an envious wind 
 Stirred the sweet linden-tree that gave him shade, 
 
 And one light leaf came fluttering down behind 
 The hero, and between his shoulders stayed, 
 So that one spot was vulnerable made ; 
 
 What woe if spear or sword should smite him 
 
 there ! " 
 Then Hagen : " Noble queen, be undismayed : 
 
 The Niblung's life shall be my constant care, 
 
 But mark this spot upon the vesture he shall wear." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Then dews of joy suffused the lady's eyes, 
 
 As, full of trust, she pressed the iron hand 
 Of Hagen, and she thanked him ; passing wise 
 
 She deemed the measure he so quickly planned ; 
 
 For who such deadly guile might understand ? 
 And while her lord slept in the silent night, 
 
 Herself unloosed from slumber's healing band, 
 She rose, to sew a cross of colour bright 
 Upon his garment laid to don with morning light. 
 
 X. 
 
 How the fierce heart in Hagen's bosom leapt 
 When, on the morn he saw that fatal sign ! 
 
 A little backward to the kings he stepped, 
 And whispered it with darkly glowing eyne ; 
 But Gunther, like a reveller steeped in wine, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 169 
 
 Shrank staggering, and his sister's farewell kiss 
 Burnt his blanched cheek and made his eye-balls 
 
 shine ; 
 
 Then mused he on his hard-won bridal bliss, 
 And Siegfried's generous aid and faith to him and 
 
 his. 
 
 XI. 
 
 He mused on Brunhild's mien that fateful day 
 What time the martial maid with sword and spear 
 
 Assailed him, and his soul shook with dismay, 
 Knowing the fierce, unequal combat near 
 With occult powers, mused how, with words of 
 cheer, 
 
 Siegfried, in mystic robes of darkness veiled, 
 Came, and while Gunther fighting would appear, 
 
 Over the war-maid's strength himself prevailed, 
 
 And with the beauteous bride and treasure home- 
 wards sailed. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then mused he on the golden zone and ring, 
 Wrested by viewless hands in darkling fight. 
 
 Alas, that Siegfried should have breathed the thing 
 To Chriemhild, and, alas, the fatal spite 
 Of women, that all this had brought to light ! 
 
 And then his cheek burnt hotter, as he thought 
 That all lay open to his people's sight, 
 
 The binding and the shame Brunhilda wrought, 
 
 The aid more shameful still that Siegfried's prowess 
 brought. 
 
170 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 XIII. 
 But after she, unknowing, for his death 
 
 Her lord had signed, Chriemhild in quiet lay, 
 Till slumber caught her softly-coming breath, 
 
 And a grim vision rent the veil away 
 
 From the dark future. Then in wild dismay 
 She screamed and woke, and in the dawning*s chill 
 
 Knelt white and trembling, and that he would stay 
 From hunting, prayed her lord with passioned will, 
 And told him all her dream and dread of coming 
 ill. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Then Siegfried, sleep-dazed, in the dusky light, 
 With pitying love upon the fair queen gazed ; 
 
 Touched by her terror and the pure delight 
 Of beauty, in his arms he gently raised 
 And soothed, like some young child with pain 
 amazed, 
 
 The lady, gently chiding her weak fears ; 
 
 " In vain/' he said, " the occult powers blazed 
 
 Upon me in my boyhood's far-off years ; 
 
 Why tremble now, when nought to hurt or harm 
 
 appears ? " 
 
 xv. 
 
 So, ere the first dews sparkled in the sun, 
 
 Chriemhild with trembling touch her lord arrayed 
 
 For hunting ; spear, bow, quiver, one by one, 
 And lastly, Balmung, dread and mystic blade, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 171 
 
 In flashing splendours in his baldric laid, 
 Then her white arms about her husband flung 
 
 And wept, her lofty stature on him stayed ; 
 And with strange agony the lips that clung 
 To his he kissed, nor knew what pain his bosom 
 wrung. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But Chriemhild knew that in that long last kiss, 
 The bitterness of death lurked ; long gazed she 
 
 Upon the godlike form that bore her bliss 
 Away; and thrice, with longing looks, to see 
 Her face, he turned and paused, then, shaking free 
 
 The golden reins, spurred onward in the light ; 
 A kingly sun with vassal stars was he, 
 
 Among those kings, of noble build and height ; 
 
 His face was very strong, with thought and beauty 
 bright. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Strange fires were tangled in his golden hair, 
 
 Wild lightnings slumbered in his clear blue eye ; 
 Rich were his arms, his garb of fabric rare 
 
 Blazed with the fatal cross in crimson dye. 
 
 To gaze upon the hunters passing by 
 The burghers thronged about the city old, 
 
 And, seeing Siegfried, raised an awe-struck cry 
 " Lo ! he that won the Niblung's charmed gold, 
 And slew the dragon-guard and scaled the rocky 
 hold ! " 
 
172 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Then whispered they of Brunhild's ravished ring 
 
 And girdle, and of service he had done, 
 Unspeakable, to the Burgundian king, 
 
 And secretly the Valkyr's beauty won. 
 
 This Hagen heard ; and that he had begun 
 He swore to finish ere that moon was high ; 
 
 (So grew the darksome web the Norns had 
 
 spun,) 
 
 And Gunther heard ; and while his brother's eye 
 Looked frankly to his own, moaned, shuddering, 
 "He must die!" 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Yet nothing of his purpose he let fall, 
 
 But with the Niblung spoke in loving wise, 
 
 As they rode on by tower and steep-roofed hall 
 And balcony, alight with ladies' eyes, 
 By quaint-carved storeys, climbing to the skies, 
 
 Dark-browed, and meeting like a woodland arch. 
 Anon they lost the city's mingled cries, 
 
 And trod the silence made by pine and larch, 
 
 Then by the fortressed Rhine they bent their 
 
 peaceful march. 
 
 xx. 
 
 By Siegfried's stirrup rode the younger kings, 
 Gernot and Giselher, and they beguiled 
 
 The passing hours upon their lingering wings, 
 With song and jest and tale with wonder piled ; 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 173 
 
 Anigh them moved the people, weird and wild, 
 Dark-faced and low of stature, from the land 
 Of distant Niflheim ; dark amid the mild, 
 Bright-haired Burgundians gloomed that shadowy 
 
 band, 
 
 Like troublous dreams that near the noon-day 
 sleeper stand. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 All day they journeyed, till at vesper-time 
 They rested by the river's still expanse ; 
 
 Afar they heard a convent faintly chime, 
 
 They saw green shadows on the lit wave dance, 
 And steep cliffs glowing in the sun's red glance ; 
 
 Around their simple fare the hunters lay, 
 And told of heroes tried by battle's chance, 
 
 Of elves and shapes that shun the eye of day, 
 
 Until the marshalled stars formed up in calm array. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Now when the wine leapt warmly in his veins, 
 And earth lay steeped in solemn still repose, 
 
 Siegfried, not boding treason, loosed the reins 
 Of free, confiding mirth, and spoke with those 
 Around him of past things ; of mutual foes 
 
 And mutual friends, of far-off youthful days, 
 
 When first they met in friendship's hallowed close, 
 
 Of Chriemhild and her beauty's far-spread praise ; 
 
 But Hagen noted all with fierce and hungry gaze. 
 
174 TH-E LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 xxm. 
 And, seeing Siegfried gay beyond his use, 
 
 Though he was never of a visage sad, 
 And so much moved that bright, rejoicing dews 
 
 His vision dimmed at mention of the glad 
 
 Past times, and Chriemhild and the little lad, 
 Their son, the fierce old warrior grimly mused 
 
 On the dark saying that the gods make mad 
 The death-doomed ; then the royal brothers used 
 Fair speech to Siegfried ; thus was friendship's 
 name abused. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 All peaceful sped the slumber-breathing night, 
 
 While squadroned stars wheeled by with noise- 
 less tread, 
 And soon the pale east glimmered coldly white, 
 
 Then flushed in awful glory rosy red ; 
 
 Up leapt the sun, his new-dipped splendours shed 
 On river, crag, and hill, and forest wide, 
 
 The fresh earth flung the shadows from her head, 
 Her dewy face in fitful crimson dyed, 
 And all things deeply drank of life's returning tide. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then, one by one, beneath the firry spires 
 And oaken domes, small, feathered minstrels sing, 
 
 Till a full chorus thrills the leafy choirs 
 And hill and dale with joyous music ring, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 175 
 
 Then, in his measure, every living thing 
 Swells the deep-hearted hymn of vital joy ; 
 
 Hares gambol, squirrels frisk, on airy wing 
 Bees hum, and painted flies with sunbeams toy ; 
 And man, arising, fares abroad to his employ. 
 
 XXVT. 
 
 Far down beneath its cliffs the river lay, 
 
 Beneath its towered cliffs, the storied Rhine, 
 
 And here it shunned the opening eye of day, 
 And here, like sapphire, in the morning's shine 
 It sparkled ; now the rocks, incarnadine, 
 
 Transmute them silently to molten gold, 
 And now the verdant slopes of blossomed vine 
 
 Flush gold beneath the rude precipitous hold, 
 
 Now the wide-beaming rays field, rock, and forest 
 fold. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Forth fared the hunters with the opening dawn, 
 Their quicksteps brushed the dew-beads glittering 
 
 white ; 
 
 They saw long sunrays smite the shimmering lawn, 
 And golden lances pierce the forest night : 
 In woodcraft, as in all the arts of fight, 
 The kings excelled : before the welcome smoke 
 Of breakfast fires upcurled, in many a flight 
 Winged arrows from their humming bow-strings 
 
 broke, 
 
 And many a wild life bled in glades of beech and 
 oak. 
 
.176 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 XXVIII. 
 In his hot fury fell a tusked boar, 
 
 Yet, dying, held both men and hounds at bay ; 
 And Gunther he had silenced evermore, 
 
 Him charging, where he could not break away 
 
 For brush ; but Siegfried saw the king's dismay, 
 And, leaping on the beast, with ready steel 
 
 He slew him. Then, with darkened brow, a prey 
 To anguish, Gunther turned upon his heel 
 And mused on Siegfried's faith to him in woe and 
 weal. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But never swerved the fire of Hagen's gaze 
 From the doomed hero ; with a ceaseless care 
 
 He watched him secretly in all his ways, 
 (So the keen hunter watches from his lair 
 The lion, all unconscious of the snare), 
 
 That he might smite him where the fatal cross 
 Gave entrance to the weapon of the slayer : 
 
 But the prince moved so swiftly, all to loss 
 
 His pains turned, and in rage he trampled mire and 
 moss, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Wrath-brooding. Little sport was his that day 
 So strongly was the hunter's instinct bent 
 
 On tracking to his death a nobler prey; 
 And evermore before his vision went 
 The weeping face of Brunhild, and it lent 
 
 New fury to the fire that in him glowed. 
 So fared they till the sun's first heat was spent, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 177 
 
 And the bright fire-maned coursers swiftly trode 
 The blue to burning gold adown the westward road. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Sun-spent and weary were the hunters then, 
 And fain were they to rest and fain to drink ; 
 
 But the great drouth had stilled in wood and glen 
 The song of rills and made all rivers shrink, 
 When Gunther suddenly a missing link 
 
 Of memory captured, and he spoke of trees, 
 Soft-glooming by a bubbling fountain's brink ; 
 
 And Hagen saw them darkening in the breeze, 
 
 And thither sped while still the princes lay at ease. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Then Siegfried, all unconscious of his doom, 
 
 Humoured the young kings in such boyish play 
 As strong men love, a foot-race to the bloom 
 
 Of limes, beneath whose shade the waters lay. 
 
 So the three kings their weapons cast away 
 For lightness, but the Dragon-slayer kept, 
 
 With reckless ease of strength, his whole array, 
 And over bending fern he glanced and swept 
 And reached the spring, while far behind the tired 
 kings stepped. 
 
 xxxin. 
 
 A living spring gushed in the dim, sweet shade, 
 With cool, deep moss and drooping fern o'ergrown ; 
 
 By day, by night, the escaping waters made 
 A pleasant music on the rugged stone ; 
 M 
 
178 THfe LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 Three sister-linden's arms, together thrown 
 Athwart the bright wave, kept the sun aloof ; 
 
 All day in soft and drowsy undertone 
 Winged people murmured in the gold-green roof, 
 And pale lights trembled through its closely-braided 
 woof. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 A moment bent the form of hero mould 
 Above its image in the diamond well, 
 Then eagerly within the water cold 
 
 The Niblung plunged his hand, a hollow shell, 
 And raised it full but drank not ; for it fell 
 Upon him to await in knightly guise 
 
 The coming of the kings ; thus, old books tell, 
 Did the high breeding of those times advise ; 
 So, thirsting still, he stood close watched by hostile 
 eyes. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Then, leisurely, as one who moves at ease 
 In his own hall, unvexed by any care, 
 
 He leant his goodly spear against the trees, 
 Unclasped his tunic, made his hot brow bare, 
 Breathing with joy the cool, spray-freshened air, 
 
 Laid by all weapons, even the charmed blade, 
 The elf-forged Balmung, and defenceless there 
 
 He stood, untroubled, in the linden shade, 
 
 Nor dreamed his courteous deed with murder would 
 be paid. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 179 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 Him Hagen marked, and in his bloodshot eye 
 The lurid flame of vengeance fiercer glowed. 
 Then, hot and panting, full of jollity, 
 
 The brothers came, and Gunther slowly strode 
 Behind them ; as a tired man drops a load 
 He dropped his body by the water's brink, 
 
 And Siegfried, also bending, turned and showed 
 The fatal cross, and scooped the cool, bright drink 
 With curving palm ; then quick, before the stirred 
 wave's wink, 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Leapt Hagen panther-like upon the spear, 
 
 Grasped it and kept it in his rough, right hand, 
 
 And with the other caught the quiver near 
 
 And bow, and even the Niblung's shining brand, 
 The sacred Balmung, in its jewelled band, 
 
 He seized and hurled in flashing wheels away ; 
 And, ere the doomed man guessed the treason 
 planned 
 
 Or deemed himself in turn the hunter's prey, 
 
 His own spear through the cross had made its fated 
 way. 
 
 xxxvin. 
 
 Then, with a dread and far-resounding cry, 
 Death-stricken, Siegfried sprang upon his feet, 
 
 When, turning in his mortal agony, 
 
 His eyes the flaming orbs of Hagen meet, 
 
i8o THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 Intent to make the deadly deed complete ; 
 Transfixed by his own spear and paling fast, 
 
 The prince with aimless strokes the void air beat, 
 And all his deeds in one swift moment passed 
 Before his fading eyes, with blinding death-film 
 glassed. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But, ere he died, the loyal, generous soul 
 
 In one word, " Traitor !" from his wan lips burst ; 
 
 And suddenly he felt the darkness roll 
 
 Away from past things, and he saw 4he worst, 
 The treason that had plotted from the first 
 
 Against him. But he did not tamely die. 
 
 Vainly he sought his arms ; the hand accursed 
 
 Had moved them ; but he saw beside him lie 
 
 His shield, and smote with that the murderers 
 pressing nigh. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Thus, bleeding from a brother's treacherous hand, 
 
 The princely stag the fierce hounds held at bay ; 
 They did not scorn to strike, that coward band, 
 
 To strike the stricken and defenceless prey ; 
 
 But only by the lime-leaf's fatal way 
 The prince was vulnerable ; so in vain 
 
 They sought the charm-bound Dragon-slayer to 
 
 slay; 
 
 While he in noble fury smote amain 
 Till the woods rang and cleft was Hagen's casque 
 in twain. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 181 
 
 XLI. 
 
 And many a warrior fell, such deadly might 
 Yet lived within the wounded hero's arm, 
 Although the shadows of death's imminent night 
 Had darkened all his being's fateful charm. 
 At last he fell, but his great soul and warm 
 Not easily might leave its palace fair, 
 
 He fell, and nearer closed the murderous swarm ; 
 His blood dyed all the wood -flowers blooming 
 
 there, 
 
 And Gunther's glances pale he sought with eyes of 
 prayer. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Then, " O my brother ! * cried the dying man, 
 With gasping breath and slowly-darkening eyes, 
 
 While drops of anguish from his pale brow ran, 
 " Speak once more brotherly before I die, 
 And swear to me by all thou boldest high 
 
 And holy to protect thy father's child, 
 
 The desolate Chriemhild, lest my blood should cry 
 
 To Heaven on thy knightly faith defiled, 
 
 Guest, brother, liegeman, friend, by treason foul 
 
 beguiled. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 " I charge thee by the love of olden days 
 My orphaned son and widowed wife defend ; 
 
 If ever thou wouldst walk in pleasant ways, 
 If ever thou wouldst call a good man friend ; 
 
1 82 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 And Heaven to thee and thine for ever send 
 All blessing ! For thy blood lives in their veins, 
 
 To thee and Chriemhild did the same lives lend 
 Their life. Speak out before my faint lamp wanes, 
 Speak out, and cleanse thy soul from treason's 
 shameful stains. 
 
 XLIV. 
 " Ay me ! my little lad, that men should say, 
 
 That men should say of Chriemhild's princely son, 
 ' His own blood did his father's life betray, 
 
 By brother's hands his father was undone/ 
 
 But lest thy love to bitterness should run, 
 Seeing in my son the features of his sire, 
 
 And thou shouldst visit on this helpless one 
 Dark memories his sweet eyes might inspire, 
 Come near and clasp my hand and let thy wrath 
 expire. 
 
 XLV. 
 " For ever blotted out be this dark day 
 
 From thy remembrance ! Only think of me 
 As of the brother of thy heart, thy stay 
 
 When need was sorest, one who trusted thee 
 
 To death, and, dying, turned to thee to see 
 His best friend yet the thing is very hard, 
 
 To fall so meanly and by treachery 
 Not as a warrior dies, face foremost, scarred 
 By battle's burning joy, in sight of fame's award. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 183 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 "Alas my Chriemhild ! for her gentle sake 
 
 I would my tide of life might turn again : 
 Not death I fear ; the warrior must take 
 
 Battle's grim odds upon the bloody plain ; 
 
 But to die thus, unshriven, with foul stain 
 Of fresh-done trespass. Yet, thro' my soul's war 
 
 A soft voice breathes, 'Thou hast not lived in 
 
 vain.' 
 
 And, spite of all my sin, perchance, afar, 
 I may behold God's light from some sweet-shining 
 
 star. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " For I repent me. Pray now for my soul, 
 Fair brother, and let holy rites be done 
 
 For this spent body, when the life-tides roll 
 No more in it for ever ; do not shun 
 My memory." He ceased ; for now, out-spun 
 
 Was his thin thread of life. And Gunther, bowed 
 To earth by shame and sorrow, lay as one 
 
 Death-stricken, and for anguish wept aloud, 
 
 All wept, and none refrained but Hagen in that 
 
 crowd. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Now Hagen had been wounded in the strife, 
 Sore wounded, and his casque was cleft in twain, 
 
 And when he pierced the prince, the unprisoned life 
 Gushed out and sprinkled him with ruddy rain, 
 
1 84 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 His own blood mingled with that shameful stain 
 Upon his raiment : he, with passion torn, 
 
 Flouted the dying hero ; "Not again 
 Through thee our queen shall sorrow ; but, forlorn 
 And widowed, thy proud dame shall weep from 
 night till morn. 
 
 XLIX. 
 "And none shall comfort her. And thy young whelp 
 
 Shall howl beneath a stranger's pitiless blow, 
 And he shall cry, and cry in vain, for help, 
 
 While thou with all thy strength art lying low ; 
 
 I do rejoice me that I wrought thee woe." 
 Thus the betrayer with fierce flaming eyes, 
 
 Staunching his blood that never ceased to flow ; 
 But Gunther pardon craved with heart-wrung sighs, 
 And all around him wept as when a father dies. 
 
 L. 
 Then darkened all the sweet and sylvan scene, 
 
 The green earth heaved the closing eyes before, 
 And all things were as they had never been, 
 
 While the last death-pangs Siegfried's body tore ; 
 
 But when his spirit passed, his lips once more, 
 With Chriemhild's name moved, and his strong 
 heart broke, 
 
 The stalwart limbs stretched stiffening in gore ; 
 Like evening's sunbeam, the last words he spoke 
 Unearthly loveliness in his pale face awoke. 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 185 
 
 LI. 
 Majestic, like a lofty god at rest, 
 
 He lay upon his mossy woodland bed ; 
 Some golden blossoms fluttered to his breast, 
 And thick-leaved boughs encanopied his head ; 
 But the cool, warbling wave was stained with red, 
 Red was the balmy woodruff on the ground, 
 
 On all his garments and his gear were spread 
 Red blood-drops, and his lofty brow was bound 
 With the dread damps and chills of death's 
 unbreaking swound. 
 LII. 
 But awe and shuddering seized the brothers twain, 
 
 Gernot and Giselher ; bewildered sore, 
 Scarce wist they how it chanced the guest was slain ; 
 And who began and who the life-thread shore, 
 They questioned ; and the Niblungs stood before 
 Their dead, and asked what chance this sorrow 
 
 wrought. 
 
 Then Gunther spoke of evil hap that bore 
 Him deathwards. But the undreading Hagen raught 
 Towards the spear and cried : " This vengeance 
 to him brought, 
 
 LIII. 
 
 ' And this hand smote him, and not easily 
 
 Will he arise to work us woe again. 
 Who shall avenge him ? Not the few we see, 
 
 Faint-hearted Niblungs, who are in his train." 
 
i86 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 Then the young brothers : " There has fallen a 
 
 stain 
 Upon us that no blood can wash away, 
 
 Not though the heavens should break in goryrain, 
 And quenched in blood were the great eye of day, 
 And one day our doomed race in blood this deed 
 will pay." 
 
 Liv. 
 
 And then they raised upon a shield of gold 
 
 The lifeless form and bore it silently, 
 On cross-laid spears in Siegfried's banner rolled, 
 
 Beneath the changing arch of sky and tree ; 
 
 The Niblungs, Burgunds, and the brothers three 
 In silence followed ; but who wrought the woe, 
 
 Von Troneck Hagen, laughed in bitter glee ; 
 And when the evening star had fallen low 
 And every household fire in Worms long ceased to 
 glow, 
 
 LV, 
 
 They reached the city and so stilly passed, 
 
 That no man of their home-returning deemed. 
 Then the dead warrior, with face aghast 
 
 And wan, without the house where Chriemhild 
 
 dreamed, 
 They laid and left. The pale, pure starlight 
 
 beamed 
 
 Sadly, and waned in mist ; the watchful cock 
 Gave warning ere the first white dawning gleamed, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 187 
 
 What time day's cares at sleep-barred spirits knock, 
 And, at Aurora's touch, morn's pearly gates unlock. 
 
 LVI. 
 Then the deep minster bells began to chime 
 
 For mass, and to the holy house of prayer 
 Went Lady Chriemhild in the dawning time, 
 
 And men before her flaming torches bare, 
 
 When, on the pavement in the ruddy glare, 
 They caught the glitter of a shield of gold, 
 
 And through dense mist the warrior lying there, 
 Scarce saw they, ere a sudden shrill cry told 
 Their lady saw and knew that form's heroic mould. 
 
 LVII. 
 Ah ! who may paint the deadly agony 
 
 Of Chriemhild, when she clasped the silent dead, 
 Kissed the sealed eyes that never more would see, 
 
 Cradled upon her breast the helpless head, 
 
 Washed with hot tears the stains of dull dark red, 
 And, for warm kisses, felt the icy chill 
 
 Of lips whence love and life were ever fled, 
 Of pulses, once so strong, for ever still, 
 Till in a death-like swoon she lost all sense of ill ? 
 
 LVI 1 1. 
 Even the rough linksmen stood aside in awe, 
 
 Heart-stricken by the lady's utter woe, 
 And when her swoon of agony they saw, 
 
 Some tears from one man's eyes began to flow, 
 
i88 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 The other groaned and turned his torch, that so 
 It might not fall upon the piteous scene ; 
 
 Then from the hall ran serving-folk to know 
 What that dread cry in the dim dawn should mean, 
 With Sigmund, Siegfried's sire, and his bereaved 
 queen. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Now, at the mother's heart-struck cry, the life 
 Came pulsing through the widow's breast again, 
 
 Back, like the cutting of a keen-edged knife, 
 Flashed the full consciousness of bitter pain, 
 And Chriemhild rose, and looked upon the slain, 
 
 Her wide eyes all amazed with agony ; 
 She marked him weaponless, and tracked the 
 stain 
 
 Of life-blood to the silken cross, that she 
 
 Herself had sewn, in trust of Hagen's loyalty. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Then all the lovely lustre of her eyes 
 
 Was altered, and the deathless fire of hate 
 
 Changed all her features and her gentle guise 
 Of speech, and marred the sweet and tender state 
 Of womanhood upon her, till the great, 
 
 Fierce tide of anguish burst, and thus she spake : 
 " Thy spirit passed not through the glorious gate 
 
 Of battle, nor did foe thine armour break 
 
 With sword cuts ; but thy death crept on thee like 
 a snake, 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 189 
 
 LXI. 
 
 " In treachery from behind." Then Siegfried's sire 
 This hearing, bent, hand-shadowed, in the light 
 
 That flickered red in gusts of smoke and fire. 
 He saw, and knew that she had read aright 
 The dreadful riddle of that tragic sight; 
 
 And Siegfried's mother wept that she had borne 
 A son so noble for so sad a plight ; 
 
 And Chriemhild stood of joy for ever lorn, 
 
 And with a gust of rain awoke the wan-eyed morn. 
 
 LXIT. 
 
 Then, with the pale day, all the city came 
 With lamentation wild, and awe-struck woe, 
 
 And many armed them to avenge the shame 
 Of the strong Dragon-slayer, lying low 
 In blood ; but no man wist who dealt the blow. 
 
 And Sigmund would have taken arms, despite 
 His weight of years, to smite the unknown foe, 
 
 But Chriemhild clung to him ; her lips were white, 
 
 She held him with the terror of her glances bright. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 " Not yet awhile, not yet awhile/' she cried, 
 " The fated hour of vengeance is not yet ! " 
 
 So he stood awed and musing, at her side, 
 Noting her rigid face and eyes unwet ; 
 
190 THfi LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 Then they took up the murdered prince and set 
 With reverence upon a seemly bed, 
 
 In a fit room, where priest and warrior met 
 To pray and watch in turn beside the dead, 
 And tapers through the gloom a spectral radiance 
 shed. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Where, like the work of some great sculptor's hand, 
 In pure, cold marble, and exceeding fair, 
 
 But terrible, so that men gazing, stand 
 And cross themselves with murmured, hasty prayer, 
 Knelt Chriemhild in the wan and waxen glare, 
 
 With all the azure brilliance of her eyes 
 Concentred in the mute face, unaware 
 
 Of aught, while men filed by to recognize, 
 
 Before it sank to dust, the hero's mortal guise. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 But Chriemhild waited, speechless all the day, 
 Unmoving, till the night wrought thicker gloom, 
 
 Till the tall tapers shed a purer ray, 
 
 And Gunther paced with Brunhild thro' the room, 
 While music wailed the hero's timeless doom ; 
 
 Then Chriemhild rose, while bitter, burning scorn 
 Blazed in her eyes and scorched her beauty's 
 bloom, 
 
 Crying, " Go, murderer ! feign not to mourn, 
 
 Nor vaunt unblushing here thy kingly faith forsworn " ! 
 
THE LINDEN-LEAF 191 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Then Gunther turned, shame-smitten. But his queen 
 
 Exulting, mocked the desolate woman's woe, 
 And cried, "Ha, ha ! Was Balmung's edge so keen? 
 
 And sped the shaft so truly from the bow ? 
 
 Struck in the back, too, turned to flee his foe ! " 
 But Chriemhild spoke no word and made no sign, 
 
 Only her eyes burnt into Brunhild's so 
 The Valkyr quailed and went ; then in the shine 
 Of tapers Chriemhild watched the slayer to divine. 
 
 LXVII. 
 And when the second morning fired the east, 
 
 Paling the tapers in the chamber drear, 
 Where the wan Chriemhild's watch had never 
 
 ceased, 
 
 Von Troneck Hagen came to Siegfried's bier ; 
 And suddenly, when the slayer's step drew near, 
 The icy blood in crimson witness burst 
 
 From Siegfried's heart, transfixed with his own 
 
 spear. 
 
 Then Chriemhild rose, with wild eyes all athirst 
 For vengeance, and in thrilling voice the traitor 
 
 cursed. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Within the vaulted minster, where began 
 
 The fatal strife for which such blood should flow, 
 
 They laid the body of the kingly man ; 
 
 Then the three brother-sovereigns strove to show, 
 
192 THE LINDEN-LEAF 
 
 By fit observances and pomp of woe, 
 Sorrow and honour for a brother slain ; 
 
 Long ranks of mailed warriors followed slow 
 To mournful dirges in the funeral train, 
 And all the city folk with mourning filled the fane. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 There in the minster's still and solemn gloom, 
 
 With blazonry and storied panels dight, 
 In carven marbles fair, a splendid tomb 
 Was planned for him. But ere the grave's long 
 
 night 
 
 Shrouded the dreadless hero from her sight 
 Chriemhild unveiled the well-known, well-loved face, 
 
 So awful in its frozen beauty's light, 
 Kissed the cold lips and clasped the body's grace, 
 Then stood alone and vowed the death of all her 
 race. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Now when the tomb closed over Siegfried's form, 
 A strong, swift shudder shook the hearts of men, 
 
 Above the city lowered in gathering storm 
 
 A black, low muttering thunder-cloud, and then 
 Thick mist rolled up on winds that swept a fen 
 
 Till all the city sheeted stood in gloom, 
 
 Where wild shapes moved and shrieked and 
 shrieked again ; 
 
 Then pallor sat on cheeks of richest bloom 
 
 And every soul the shadow felt of imminent doom. 
 
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